The pebbles along the path
by Ethereal311
Summary: After two and a half millennia of imprisonment, Xerath breaks free from his supposed tomb. The world has changed significantly since he was first incarcerated and there is more to this world than meets the eye. This is a small part of his story to power and the stories of those who stand both with and against him. Rated T for violence, mature themes and innuendo.
1. Chapter 1: The Experiment

Chapter 1: The Experiment.

The ritual was going well. Xerath felt his frail form transcending into the higher power he had wanted, and needed, to continue his venture into further arcane understanding. The raw magic revitalized his failing body and his face was in awe at the beautiful chaotic sphere of raw energy that was to become his new vessel for all of eternity.

There was a voice calling him. At first, Xerath thought the voice was caused by the souls of the damned that had entered the sphere and were being purified by the sheer magical pressure ridding itself of impurities.

No.

The voice called again. Xerath scanned the surroundings. He caught sight of the damned.

It was Tabia. The mage Xerath had always admired for her skill. The girl he had always loved.

"XERATH! NO! DON'T DO THIS! I BEG OF YOU! PLEASE!" Tabia cried out.

Xerath's resolve wavered, knowing that if he continued he would never be able to view Tabia the same way he had. The sphere responded with an incredible power spike, forcing Xerath to return and balance the spike before the ritual could go wrong.

There was a way to stop the ritual, but that would involve slowly transferring the energy to another suitable vessel. He had already begun generating the scaffold for the magic to flood his body and be born anew. He knew of little else that could help him disperse the magic safely, no one in the academy had much interest in arcane entropy control mechanisms in the same way he did. The materials were also out of the equation to store the energy, though legends told of the Magus Catenas that could hold it but that was a mere legend that only existed in ancient documents. There was nothing they had now that could contain this energy. The only way now for him was to continue with the ritual.

Tabia was kneeling on the tiled floor, tears flowing without end. She was pleading with the silhouette almost obscured by the blue sun before her. She knew at the back of her mind that Xerath could not stop the ritual quickly. She continued pleading with the figure, wanting it to return to the world, to return to Shurima, to return to her. How she wanted to hold the man's hand, how she wanted to feel the rise and fall of his chest, how she wanted to hold on to him for eternity.

The monstrous sphere did not want that. It wanted a vessel.

The cacophonous sound of the magic blurred out most of what Tabia was pleading so only a few scant words made their way through to Xerath.

The sphere spasmed as Xerath's concentration failed for a mere moment. A pressure wave formed, cracking the stone hall and the tiles shattering. Tabia was flung backwards against the far wall, her corpse rebounding and falling to the shards of broken tiles that littered the floor. The walls of the hall could no longer hold the sphere's influence and collapsed, sending dust into the chamber.

The sphere kept its rough shape, desperately vying for its settlement into this mage that had approached it. The Chaos knew what this mage was doing, and it suited it. No being would deprive it of its prize. Coalesced arcane energy had a peculiar habit of gaining sentience whenever it gained enough power to rid itself of acquiring supplementary energies to keep it going.

It wanted to spread itself across this desert.

It wanted to spread itself across this entire continent.

It wanted to spread itself across all of existence

For it was Chaos, Entropy, Pandemonium or any other word that man could use to describe it.

It cared not.

It had power.

That was all that mattered.


	2. Chapter 2: New Senses

Chapter 2: New senses.

Xerath had seen it all. He quivered and wanted to hurl. He wanted to stop with this stupid attempt at becoming ascendant. He wanted Tabia back.

But he knew he could not.

Xerath's new found anger only pushed him forward. The pain of the transformation was nothing. He only wanted this done now. He felt his muscles and bones harden and crystallize. His blood turned cold, only to be replaced by a constant surge of electricity. His eyes dried and he could only see darkness now. He could only feel the magic surge around him and transform him. Each moment turned into greater agony and he felt his consciousness begin to slip away.

Have I failed?

Am I about to die?

Was the magic too strong for me?

For a moment, he felt nothingness. No sense from the universe came into him.

Then a massive influx of information rushed into his mind.

He could see again, but not through the same eyes he had moments ago.

He could see as a human could see, but there were new entities humanity could only dream about. Swirling wisps and immaterial winds swirled around where he stood. Such beauty was unable to be explained by even the greatest of men, especially not Xerath. The beauty enthralled him so much that he wished to cry, but he could form none.

Xerath returned his focus back to the material plane, but was only left with the disgust of a ruined academy where his experiment had started. The academy was no more, and even then that was putting it lightly. The sandstone walls that had stood several meters away from him when he had started the ritual had been blown into dust and scattered by the winds. No signs remained of the walls, or the next, nor even the living quarters that had been several hundred meters away. The sandstone floor closest to the experiment had been reduced to molten glass and had been dispersed to such an extent that the floor had sunk an entire meter, forming a glass crater.

Xerath proceeded to look to the heavens and saw the storm that obscured even the Shuriman sun, the only thing lighting the landscape was the constant lightning that struck the landscape below, bathing everything in blue light. Globes of plasma blinked in the twilight, beautiful to all onlookers.

He looked down and glanced at his right arm. He still had control over it, but it was no longer flesh and blood. Instead it was crystalline, the skin turned to blackest obsidian. He still could feel it, but all stimuli felt weak. He could not experience the plasma detonations as the humans did, the heat reducing them to ash and the pressure pulses breaking blood vessels.

His ligaments were no longer there. The only thing connecting his arm to his torso was the cerulean lightning that flowed between the two. The plasma danced back and forth, feeding information to his mind like a synapse.

Xerath's mind could no longer handle it. He retreated into his mind, desperately trying to deny the very existence of his new body. He had never thought this would happen. He lost control of his new body, only for it to be given a new master.

The Chaos had control now. It could do anything it wished. It wished to spread across existence. It forced the crystal body into motion, floating above the ground on arcane tethers that dragged it across the landscape. It would spread chaos across this land.

Humans would halt it, but not after chaos had been spread across hundreds of kilometers. Its wish had been granted, but not to the extent it wished.

Its control began to loosen over the body as Xerath returned from his self-imprisonment, completely unaware of what he had done while the Chaos had reigned in his stead.


	3. Chapter 3: Incarceration

Chapter 3: Incarceration.

Xerath returned from his mind only to find his body had been imprisoned in chains of both physical and magical origin.

He saw the Great Seers of Shurima standing over him, each with hard faces and cold eyes. There were others with the same faces but with eyes that burned with sheer hatred. He then realized that they were all focused on him. He could hear screams of hatred from outside of the sandstone hall in which he was housed, those screams laden with sadness and even greater hate. One of the Great Seers lifted and dropped his staff, silencing every scream with the resounding clink of the metal on stone.

"XERATH!" The Great Seer roared,

"I knew that you always were ambitious, but the horror you have unleashed upon this land is greater than any abomination that even the most ancient of Seers would ever have witnessed! You then decided to create another disgusting horror in the very same day! If you have any iota of intelligence left inside that crystal body, then I hope you realize that there is no punishment that has ever been conceived to be able to equal these crimes!"

"But there is one that comes close, or two if you will." The Seer's face changed from a barking dog to a cat's smirk so fluidly that it would send a shiver down Xerath's old spine.

"The Magus Catenas and the Archa Temporem!" The Seer roared triumphantly.

Xerath's old eye's would have widened ten-fold at this declaration. The Time Coffin was one of the most devastating sentences a Mage could be given, as it was similar to being buried alive for the rest of one's days. The legends of the Magus Catenas were also true it seemed, but why had the Great Seers declared that the artifact had existed and was not simply legend?

The crowd roared with excitement at this declaration. The horror would be sentenced to death with no chance of escape, with his mind wide awake for the entirety of his remaining lifespan all the while having his magic contained to the point where he could not even move a dust particle with his magic.

As the Chains were placed on him, Xerath could feel his magic being drained into the central core of heavy orichalcum. Each of the four chains of the circuit would harbor the magic, and deny any hope of Xerath generating and storing any additional magic. As soon as the first chain was placed and the activation chant done, Xerath's body was paralyzed. The next chain was placed and the plasma conduits connecting the crystal pieces and his eyes dimmed. The third chain slowed Xerath's thoughts to a pace of a tortoise. As the final chain was activated, the remainder of the cerulean lightning faded and the white blue flame of his eye sockets faded.

Xerath could no longer sense anything coming from outside.

He would be trapped in his own mind for the remainder of his life.

But his life was far, far longer than the most ancient of Great Seers could even imagine as well.


	4. Chapter 4: The return from Limbo

Chapter 4: The return from Limbo.

After a period Xerath had long since given up on counting, the first sense that came back to Xerath was his sight. The Coffin was dimly lit from his rekindling blue eye sockets. This sight brought joy to Xerath, the first joy he had experienced in many lifetimes. He tried to move his sight but without success.

The Chains still held him with an iron grip, at least for the moment. The energies he did have were pitiful, but he supposed that there might be power in his remaining parts. This energy would take time to unbind, but if he had lived for generations and his form showed no real sign of decay, the generations needed to reach his remaining parts would come and go. He had no other problems to solve after his mind had been shut inside itself. He might just as well focus on the thing he could do now. And that was to set himself free of this Coffin and return to the wondrous outside world in all of its chaos and disorder. Such things had always interested him.

Progress was slow, but slowly he began to unbind his magic that remained in the rest of his structure. With every small instance of magic returning to him, his strength returned. Each instance of the magic gave him more to work with. He slowly began to understand how the Chains worked. They worked on the premise of magical absorption and storage, and the Chains' thirst for magic was truly voracious.

As he was heavily limited in terms of practical experiments that he could perform, so calculations were the only thing he could rely on. Xerath plotted out incredible diagrams inside his mind that were constantly scrapped and reformed. He needed to get out of this prison and any thoughts that would stop him otherwise angered Xerath greatly, occasionally spending entire weeks calming him from such anger.

But these ideas would not stop! WHY WOULD THEY NOT STOP! I AM NO CAGED BIRD AFRAID OF THE OUTSIDE WORLD! I WISH TO SEE IT AGAIN THROUGH MY OWN SENSES! NOT OF PAST MEMORIES! I WANT TO SEE IT NOW!

After several centuries, the Archa Temporem's barrier to the outside world had lost a significant portion of its energy. By this time, Xerath had regained major motor functions and had good understanding of the Chains' mechanisms.

Finally, after so many millennia, Xerath would be able to sense the outside world.

Something was happening on the surface world that rang into him even in the Coffin.

Monstrously large pulses of arcane magic were detonating in the distance. They rang into his crystalline form, spreading messages of doom and death from the souls they had reaped. Xerath quivered at the notions of these energies. But these energies only kept coming, slowly decaying the Coffin over the decades that came and went like all other decades had before them.

The Coffin would no longer be able to hold him in this prison. He sent out a message that would hopefully be heard. The audience he sensed was warm and welcoming, but there was something about it all that he questioned. They were all pleading to rid them of oppression.

He had never wished to be a Liberator. He had always been a mage and scholar before all else. Politics had never interested him, especially opposition of it. He had not been taught about political views as the ruling committee of the Great Seers had deemed it unnecessary for the non-elite to be given influence, or any knowledge at all for that matter, about political climates and government operations.

But if they wished for this so badly that they would request a resurrecting monster for help, then he would do so. If this were to not disrupt his being, then he would just have to get the episode of politics over and done with.

Fine, he thought. He would still need to get out of this prison before anything else.

He began to gather the energy from the Chains. His obsidian body surged with celestial blue energies almost blinding Xerath with the light. It reminded him of the Sun of the surface world, its guiding yet blinding light reminding him of times past before his ascension of the rolling wheat fields of his birthplace, the ancient olive trees housed within the Academy and the clay tiles that ancient Shurimans adored in their architecture. He then thought of the destruction he had wrought with his own hands. The academy had been destroyed, so the clay tiles and the ancient olive trees had been reduced to ash and dust by now. The fields of his birth would not have survived either for that matter. He had lived too long. His thoughts returned to Tabia for the first time in his almost eternal imprisonment.

She was gone. He would never be able to return to her. He knew this and had gotten over the pain long ago, but it still hindered him to this day. There is no point hanging onto it, he thought, I need to move forward. He wished to be able to go into the light.

How he wished to move again.

How he wished to feel the magical winds pass over him, with each one bringing such amazing new feelings of differing magics.

How he wished to seek new exciting information from the outside world.

No, I do not wish for these things. I demand them be given to me. I demand the power of motion. I demand the power of knowledge. It shall all be mine.

Through his anger and will he began generating a ball of lightning, something he had always used in his academy days when he was forced to spar with others. Lightning had always had an amazing presence in his mind. He had always considered it entertaining how lightning crackled across all surfaces and could leave nothing but dust of even the strongest foe.

This power is mine, one that no one may take from me.

The magical energies started to spark and crackle against the Coffin walls, the ancient wood smoldering and then combusting shortly afterwards, revealing to Xerath a new layer of hard stone. The first new sight he had seen in millennia. A smile would have come across his face, provided he could have made one.

The very air itself burned with incredible ferocity. Small pools of water that had gathered from the stillness of the closed chamber immediately evaporated, turning into hot plumes of steam. The hard stone caked with the heat Xerath had generated.

The sparks crackled against the stone, and then suddenly were dragged inwards into a crackling core of sheer lightning. This core expanded as the energy from the Chains surged into it.

It was time.

The stone chamber was bathed in cerulean light. The stone melted and gave way to a monstrous pulse of celestial power, boring its way through the stone towards the surface world.


	5. Chapter 5: A Banquet for fools

Chapter 5: A Banquet for fools.

Sivir dug into the bowl of exotic fruits that had been placed before her. On the opposite side of the large table sat Ezreal, his eyes taking in the majestic city of Nalepsis they had been sent to 'secure Institute interests'.

Several serving girls flowed out from the mansion's kitchens, adding food to the banquet that lay before the two Champions. Every single girl was ready to please either of the Champions at the table, and they were all more than willing to do whatever it would take to please them.

The serving girls had backed off a bit after Sivir had personally taken care of one of them who had stepped over the line after Ezreal's declaration of having a girl back in the League. The remains of a small bloodstain on the floor and the girl in the infirmary were indicators that Sivir was a dangerous one to deal with, so all of the girls were scared of her barbaric attitude and demeanor.

A figure stepped out from a door, revealing a man who had been weathered heavily by time wearing a bright purple robe that had incredibly delicate patterns etched into the fabric. The serving girls were dismissed, leaving the man and the two Champions. After several minutes of relative quiet, the man spoke up.

"My Lady, how do you find your meal?" High Seer Baltzin asked, hoping for some reasonable conversation instead of an awkward silence with the only noise being the Mistress' loud eating.

"Really damn good!" Sivir exclaimed, a small particle of mango flew across the table from her mouth. She then quickly returned to her meal.

Baltzin decided against exposing his disgust at such a brutish and disrespectful behavior. He then asked Ezreal the same question, hoping for a more appropriate response.

"Master Explorer, how do you find your meal?"

Ezreal was not listening. He was looking over at the temple that he had been told about by his superiors.

He had barely even touched his meal, as he had been busy attempting to ward off the serving girls that had plagued him.

"Master Explorer?" Baltzin repeated the question.

"One sec, I know how to deal with him when he is like this." Sivir said, with a small grin across her face.

She then looked behind her table into the distance, raised her hand as if wanting to greet someone and then said "Oh hey Taric! Didn't expect to meet you here."

Ezreal jumped, got his legs caught on the table, falling backwards on his chair. He then proceeded to move under the table for a second, only to finally figure out the cruel joke. Only Sivir was laughing, while Baltzin was visibly seething with rage at such a childish act.

And these were supposed to be Champions of this League of Legends? The thought of these two being significant enough to be requested was laughable. Why do the Summoners hold such respect and praise for these simple fools?

"Seer Baltzin," Ezreal righted himself "these fruits are incredible! I had no such knowledge that such an arid region such as Shurima would be able to create such amazing produce."

Perhaps I was wrong, at least one of these fools knows how to converse in a civilized manner.

"Oh yes! Shurima may be a vast desert after that monster caused it," Baltzin gazed over at the ancient temple in the distance spitefully. "But there are oases in the area that do provide plenty of irrigation to produce all manner of delicacies."

"Also," Ezreal quickly added to continue his inquiry into the resurgence of magical energies from the temple, "who are those people down there?" Ezreal pointed at a small crowd nearby the temple, who appeared to be in prayer in sky blue robes.

"That crowd?"

Ezreal could guess from Baltzin's expression that the man hated something about them.

"They are the Thunder Disciples, just another group of cultists that I will have to deal with in time. They worship that being of destruction because of some mere dream their leader had of the being's cry or something, even though that same _thing_ laid waste to all but the most outmost regions of the Shuriman desert. Whatever that thing is now after the centuries of slumber, I know one thing will come out of his reawakening and that will be another catastrophe. Whenever asked about the reality that that thing destroyed Shurima, they talk about how the returning Mage will stop 'all conflict and rid the world of war, bringing a new era of prosperity that will continue for all eternity.'" Baltzin mocked out their declarations, then returning to his original tone.

"Being the dealer of all religious matters within this Great City of Nalepsis, I've seen enough false prophecies to make a new library dedicated to each of them. I expect this one will only be another book in it. However if that monster does awaken, then I shall personally see to it that its death will be unpleasant. He will fall beneath our new arsenal. Centuries have passed and we are prepared to exterminate him from this world. Now if you will excuse me, I must retire for the night."

With that, Baltzin exited the hall still angry from the thought of that monster. The two Champions returned to their banquet, with Sivir's drunken ramblings echoing throughout the entire mansion. Ezreal continued staring out into the distance, only picking at his food. He was deep in thought, trying to decipher all of the information that had been given to him.

Baltzin continued down a large corridor and up several flights of stairs. When out of earshot of the 'Champions', he ushered his personal Guards to follow him to a large balcony, which overlooked an entire company of the Nalepsian Guard.


	6. Chapter 6: The thoughts of an Explorer

Chapter 6: The thoughts of an Explorer.

Ezreal could not sleep, not after two attempts of serving girls trying to get into his bed. He looked out over the window at the distant temple where the mage was supposed to be sleeping. Plumes of burning incense created a mist of smoke over the worship site, adding to the mystic awe of the dozens of robed Disciples.

Those girls must be really desperate to get down with me, he thought to himself. Some of them had reminded him of Luxanna Crownguard, the Light-Mage and his girlfriend for the most part. She was always incredibly optimistic, had a good sense of humor and was generally a sweet girl. She could also put on a really good show, in the light as well as the dark. He did know a bit about the Crownguard family, in how it was an incredibly prestigious Demacian family that had protected the Demacian throne for many centuries and that all of them had some form of incredible talents. Lux was no exception, her mastery over light magic and her experience in Demacian military exercises proof of that.

Ezreal shook his head, trying to get back onto the matter of these Disciples and their prayer session that had gone far too long into the night.

His armlet, which he used on the Rift as well as when the situation dictated that he should use it in the field, was understandingly irritable. It would always get like this whenever significant magical energies were present. Ezreal knew that this mage was supposed to be incredibly powerful, and had single-handedly reduced Shurima from a fertile and prosperous land to a barren wasteland stricken by immense magical storms in one almighty spell where the effects still reigned even to this day in some regions, but there were few if any archives on what and who this mage actually was. There was one name that did shine out though, Zewrath. This 'Zewrath' person was supposedly struck with a magically induced illness that would have turned his body to crystal slowly, but it was said that Zewrath found an opportunity to attune his body to higher magical energies that no human, no matter how skilled, would be able to comprehend. It was suggested once in the records that the operation to completely attune his body had gone wrong and thus the magical radiation from the operation dissipated catastrophically, resulting in raw magic flooding the entire Shuriman region, somewhat reminiscent of the runic weapons used during the Rune Wars. After further research into the records, it was found that the writer had been declared a heretic and had been sentenced to the same imprisonment that Zewrath had endured. The archived page was about two thousand years old.

Ezreal sighed heavily. Maybe his thoughts did waste far too much time after all.

He returned to sleep, wishing hopefully that neither serving girl nor Taric would stop his sleep. He was stopped, but thankfully not by the ones he had listed.

"Ez, wake up. We have trouble."

"Oh come on Lux, we have time and your damn brother is out on Jarv's orders isn't he?"

Ez sleepily opened his eyes looking over to the female figure that stood before him with incredibly large breasts.

Definitely not Lux, Ezreal thought and tried to return to sleep only to be swiftly yanked out of the bed, revealing Sivir in full battle armor.

"Definitely not Lux? You really need to get rid of those sleep talking habits of yours." Sivir laughed.

"Wait, I said that out loud? And what do you mean by sleep talking habits?"

Sivir stepped back from Ezreal and attempted to mimic him comically, "Oh no Taric! I have been dazzled by your magnificence! I need your healing grace to help me survive now!"

"By the Devs! Where did you hear that!"

"Summoners always have a way of getting 'private' information."

"Anyway, there's trouble with those Thunder Disciple people, the ones the high seer guy talked about." Sivir nodded in the direction of the temple.

Ezreal pulled himself up off the floor and turned around to see smoke coming off from the Disciples' worship area. Small bursts of light from magical energies illuminated the nearby buildings, one of which had been set alight by arcane fire with smoke bellowing from it's inside.

"What the damn hell is happening!"

"I have no idea." Sivir said plainly as she looked at the devastation, then returned her gaze to Ezreal. "You want to go and find out?"

"You know I do."

"Well get some damn clothes on then, I'm heading out soon and I'm not being paid enough for this job to have you in the middle of some battle dressed only in your nightwear."


	7. Chapter 7: Intervention

Chapter 7: Intervention.

The plaza outside the temple was cast into turmoil as the Council's forces had struck at the Disciples, sending them into disarray. Those who had retaliated with stones had been turned into pincushions by arrow fire, while fireballs and lightning bolts had wrought havoc on the crowd.

Nrazin, the worship master, had been captured. Most, if not all, of the Disciples had been captured, save for several individuals who had managed to escape.

When there was no possible threat of attack, the High Seer Baltzin appeared.

Baltzin looked upon his brother Nrazin with a grim smile, to which Nrazin responded with an equal smile broken by the blood that dripped from his nose and mouth.

"Hello Brother, I hope the Council has treated you well." Baltzin's smile would have sent shivers down the necks of any lesser men.

"The Council has treated me well, for those that are claimed to be heretics." A small globule of blood welled in Nrazin's mouth forcing him to spit it out onto the stone pavement.

Baltzin's smile broke and anger gripped him, kicking Nrazin's face onto the spit. "Don't you dare do such barbaric acts in this civilized city, Brother."

"Necessity requires foolish acts to continue comfort." Nrazin quickly declared.

"There is no necessity in worshipping that harbinger of doom! You should know what it did to this ENTIRE LAND!" Once again, Baltzin stamped on Nrazin's head, which was followed with a cry of pain and a stifled scream from one of the captured Disciples.

"Who was that?" Baltzin demanded, his eyes scanning the Disciples for any sign of the perpetrator. His eyes met with a woman with her mouth clasped by a young man. "Bring them here! NOW!" Baltzin bellowed.

The two were dragged before him, with the woman sobbing slowly and the man appearing to be resigning to his end. The two were quickly executed before the Disciples, which were followed by a younger woman openly breaking down.

She was a dragged again before Nrazin for execution.

"BROTHER! DO NOT KILL HER! She is my only family now. I beg of you as siblings, DO NOT KILL MY DAUGHTER!" Nrazin's tears had streamed out since his wife and son had been picked out. They would not stop.

"You are still my brother, so I shall honor your words. After all, they will be your last. SERGEANT! Pass me a sword so that I may kill this insolent heretic!"

As one of the Council guards was about to pass his own sword, a magical bolt pierced his hand, destroying the scabbard as well as reducing his hand to a cauterized stump. The man roared in agony and fell to the stone pavement screaming.

An immense glaive cut down the two guards that had been dragging the girl forward. The girl was paralyzed with shock, struggling to move away from their corpses.

"High Seer Baltzin! What in the Devs is the meaning of this ridiculous slaughter!" the Prodigal Explorer demanded, his magical armlet poised against the Seer. Sivir caught hold of her glaive as it returned back to her, then remained poised to launch it at any foe that would dare interrupt the two.

"This is a domestic affair, Master Explorer, this is none of your concern."

"The Mistress and I think otherwise, High Seer. We cannot simply sit by while someone is orchestrating a massacre!"

The tension between the two parties only grew fiercer and fiercer.

All the while a small spark was discharged from one of the bronze incense burners at the entrance of the temple.


	8. Chapter 8: The facade remains intact

Chapter 8: The façade remains intact.

"High Seer Baltzin! Stop this at once!" The Seer spun around to meet the eyes of the Council Warden whose face showed distaste at such brutality. It did not help the Seer's case that Baltzin had the worship leader on his knees before him.

"Warden, I was merely undertaking my duty as High Seer to keep this city pure and removing heretics such as these from the city." Baltzin declared.

"That may be your duty, but undertaking a massacre directly inside our city right outside the residential area?" Baltzin's face grimaced at this declaration.

"I am not yet done with these heretics just yet and it is in my duty to remove these pests from this city by any means that I see fit. That means that they are under my responsibility to be disposed of."

"The responsibility of these 'heretics' is now under direct control from the High Council. Your duty is no longer needed at this time. High Seer Baltzin, under my authority as the High Warden of Nalepsis, I hereby arrest you and your forces for the slaughter of civilians and destruction of property. Lieutenant, I leave you in charge of securing transport and shelter for the Disciples."

"Yes sir!"

Baltzin sighed and ordered his forces to stand down. He could not win against the entire Council even using his position.

The High Warden turned to the two Champions. "Thank you for intervening in this matter. Had you not come so early, the Disciples would have been completely slaughtered and there would be no room for any negotiation. I am sorry you had to take part, but we are eternally grateful to both of you. Now if you would excuse us, we must depart to get rid of this traitor."

"Might we be able to speak with the Worship leader when you are finished with the negotiations?" Ezreal quickly asked.

"You may, but we may only be able to spare several minutes of his time."

"Thank you then, High Warden. The Mistress and I will now return to our villa to get some food. Its nearly sunrise after all." Ezreal's stern look had faded and returned to his more jovial personality. The Chronomancer Zilean had told him when this mage would reawaken. And that time was in the frame of mere hours now.

As the two Champions made their way back to the villa, the Warden proceeded to cuff Baltzin and escorted him into a prison wagon.

* * *

When both were seated inside the secure interior, the Warden looked at Baltzin and spoke plainly.

"Nice acting back there."

"I thank you."

"That aside, I know we need to get rid of those heretics and I understand what you needed to do. You had this all planned out. But we must not let those 'Champions' know about what 'peculiar customs' the nations of Murakishur are. If we were to let them know, the Belhorashur would be able to declare war on those stupid 'Humanitarian' decrees the Institute has issued. We cannot declare against them yet, not until this mage is dealt with."

"I was debriefed on the issues with the Champions the moment they were granted access to this city by those damn Institute dogs. Their mission might be just to act as surveyors for this new artifact site or something in the region, but their timing is just too good with those emanations from that thing's tomb." Baltzin quickly replied.

"I thought I could get away while the two were drunk, but the conflict was slightly more violent than I had calculated. I had clean up crews as well to remove all signs of damage and-"

"YOU DESTROYED A DAMN BUILDING! THE ENTIRE CITY COULD SEE THE BURNING RUIN!"

The Warden sighed and then responded calmly. "The entire council will be meeting in an hour on this incident and what to do with those 'Champions'. We are heading to the Council house now. I suggest you ready yourself for the amount of all hell to be laid upon you."

"Give me peace then, I'm going to need a damn good speech."

"Baltzin."

"Yes Raes?"

"The Council says the Horde will be ready in four days. After this stunt you pulled, they might send you as an emissary to the cause."

Not good, not good at all.


	9. Chapter 9: Fifteen Minutes

Chapter 9: Fifteen minutes.

"We can give you fifteen minutes." The guard had said. That should be enough time to get some information on this awakening mage, Ezreal thought. The worship leader, Nrazin, was seated in front of him, his hands and legs bound by heavy chains. Nrazin's face was slightly swollen and some of the cuts were not healing well, yet he showed no discomfort on the matter.

"Before everything else, I thank you for saving me and my daughter as well as those of the remaining Disciples." Nrazin said calmly.

"If we may, I would prefer to speak in West Valoran. It may not be my native language, but I assume what we will talk about now might well be… confidential."

Ezreal was surprised at how flawlessly Nrazin transitioned from the quick forceful bursts of Belshuriman to the paced flow of Wevalan, as it was more commonly referred to.

"I was fortunate enough to study Wevalan during my academy days as the political climate back then was slightly…" Nrazin paused thoughtfully, his face trying to recall the blissful nostalgia.

"Warmer, if you will."

"Your guess was right." Ezreal accepted Nrazin's proposal. The forceful bursts of the language were starting to take their toll on his voice.

"I have fifteen minutes to talk with you. I want to know more about this awakening mage. I know what he did in the past as well as his name, Zewrath-"

"Its Xerath."

"Yeah, that's what I've been saying-"

"No, you are pronouncing it z-air-wraa-th. It is more guttural than that, Kz-er-a-th with a short A. If you were to pronounce it the way you do now, I doubt Xerath himself would be impressed."

"Sorry, Piltoverian habits. As I was saying, what can we expect from Xerath when he awakens?"

"In His messages to us, he talks about him being imprisoned by two things. He calls the two something like the 'Archa' and the 'Magus'. The 'Archa' is what he is freeing himself from and is a physical tomb that he was locked inside. While the 'Magus' is what has effectively fused with his being so there is freedom from the Magus' clutch just yet. He also said that he is not reawakening, more that he is freeing himself from his prison. After he regained his consciousness in this Archa, He says he was paralyzed for several centuries before being able to regain control over his body, and only now has he gained enough strength from this Magus to be able to return to the surface."

"W-wait, he says that this Magus is from where he draws power?"

"He says so, he talks about this 'equilibria' he has reached with it so his power and the power of the Magus is shared between them. He says it is heavily favored towards to Magus so his power is meager compared with the energy stored inside it."

"By the Devs! He means THE Magus Catenas? That artifact can store astronomically massive amounts of magic energy! I've only come across the name once or twice in the Institute archives, but it was supposed to be lost after the Shurima Incident. So it is real after all! I-I mean this could bring up a new frontier of research that could maybe even stop the Void from spreading!-"

"Remember we only have fifteen minutes, Explorer. After this, there is one more thing that I must talk about with you. So if you may contain your excitement for now, we need every minute we can spend."

"Y-yes. If you will continue then."

"As I was saying, he was fairly adamant about not being called 'reawakening' since he did so millennia ago. Only recently in the past couple of months has this Archa been breaking down, allowing him to contact the outside world for the first time since his sealing. I was one of the first to be able to contact him, which led me to becoming the Worship Leader of the Thunder Disciples. My family was able to gain contact at roughly the same time I did, joining in to welcome Xerath back into the world." Nrazin sighed, as he knew that what he was about to say might just change the fate of Shurima.

"We knew that such heresies would go unwelcome in the eyes of the Council, but when you came along, we knew we had an opportunity to welcome Him. The Council does not like outsiders, to say the least. There are practices that go on in Belhorashur that would break certain… terms the Institute has set out for acknowledging conflicting nations. What you saw back there with the Warden dismissing the High Seer was most likely an act the Council made to try and protect the façade they have created so as to not break the terms set out by the Institute. Now that you know, I hope this gets to the Institute. If it does, then Murakishur will have authorization to end this tyranny by Belhorashur using military force. I have spent enough time in this city to know what horrors lurk inside. And this is no uncommon incident. Other groups across Belhorashur have faced similar circumstances, and those times they had no Champions to stand against them." Nrazin's head bowed slightly. Ezreal did the same to acknowledge their fates.

"We do not have much time remaining, so I must get this out. Explorer, I doubt that I will have much time left after Xerath awakens and you leave with Him to return to the League. This is most likely a brief pause in the Council's judgment of the Disciples until you and the Battle Mistress leave the city. Afterwards, I do not need to tell you what will happen to the remaining Disciples and me." Nrazin averted his eyes slightly.

"So grant me one final wish, to allow my daughter, Azel, passage out of Belhorashur and make Xerath take her under His wing. I know her to be an exceptional scribe and scholar, as well as having arcane talent unrivaled by her other peers. I beg of you to make Xerath take her under his wing, as my request from his first contact since his sealing. I beg that much of Him."

"I-I understand what you wish. Nrazin, was it?"

"Yes."

"I hereby swear to you on my place as a Champion of the League of Legends that I will see to it that the tyranny in Belhorashur is removed in its entirety."

Ezreal quickly looked at his watch. He had one minute left with Nrazin.

"Xerath should be awakening in a few hours, so I must get everything ready for our escape out of Nalepsis and Belhorashur. I will return for Azel in two hours, so prepare her for then." Ezreal looked at Nrazin's chained form.

"It was a pleasure to talk with you Nrazin." Ezreal smiled briefly, trying to block out the thought that Nrazin and the remaining Disciples might well be executed within a day.

"I too, Ezreal." Nrazin mimicked the smile, knowing full well of what his demise would be. His broken face only amplified the sorrow Ezreal felt welling inside him.

"I too."

The guard opened the hardened steel door to the interrogation room.

"Time's up Explorer. Let's leave the man in piece now."


	10. Chapter 10: The two Lords

Chapter 10: The two Lords.

"Your name is Azel, yes?" the Explorer asked her.

"Yes. I take it you are Ezreal?" Azel cautiously replied, hoping for some confirmation before she would so easily go along with these two strangers. They might have been the ones who saved her life, but she would not take any more chances. Not after her experiences.

"As you might know, Sivir and I have been tasked to escort you and Xerath to the Institute of War."

"Yes. When are we meeting Lord Xerath?"

Ezreal glanced off to the side quickly when Azel was looking away.

Why must you people refer to him like that? It gets annoying after a while.

"It should be in a few minutes now. I suggest you get in the back of the 'track."

Ezreal pointed to a contraption that Azel had never knew existed. It looked like it was supposed to be a carriage with no horses. How could that thing even work? The two back wheels of it were just as long as the back carriage. How that thing could even get here was a mystery to her.

Nonetheless, Azel obeyed. She hated to trust these people, but her father had told her that these were good people. Good people or not, she still did not like them.

Ezreal felt his gauntlet shake as if it was actually scared. It should be any minute now. They were in the large plaza where the evidence of the events of the previous days had been completely removed spare a few broken bricks and tiles.

The plan was simple.

Secure Xerath and then get the hell out of this place.

Much easier said than done, but he had gone through measures to make it more efficient. He had positioned the half-track so that he could immediately start the engine once Xerath made his entrance, proceed to persuade Xerath to come with him, and then proceed directly out of town. This would ensure that they could go along the primary road that would lead them directly to Yelzun where they would meet up with Seer Malzahar. His ties would grant them safe travels from there to the Institute. It was just this one hurdle of getting Xerath to agree with all of this.

* * *

The ground rumbled with vigor.

It was time.

With a monstrous boom the temple was set alight like a furnace, the entrance pouring out pulses of intense flame. The very walls were struggling to contain the inferno that boiled within. After a few seconds of forging the furnace stopped, the lead tiles that covered its roof having sloughed off and the supporting ancient timber reduced to naught but ash. A silhouette appeared through the flames inside the temple.

Xerath.

Xerath floated through the intense heat inside the remains of the temple. After a moment of searching for an exit from the temple, he found it. His tethers moved him effortlessly across the rubble that littered the ground. A short burst of energy provided him a clearing to the dark night that lay beyond. After many centuries of wanting freedom from his tomb, he would finally have it.

Xerath moved outside, into the cool Shuriman night air.

At last, he had his freedom. Or at least part of it.

"Xerath, I assume."

Xerath looked down. A young man stood before him. From his clothes, Xerath guessed he was an explorer of some kind.

"Yes, I am Xerath. Who are you and what do you want from me?" Xerath replied, with each letter pronounced with the voice of an automaton.

"I'm Ezreal. We have come to collect and escort you to the Institute of War. Don't worry; the Institute is designed to stop conflicts not to make them. I had that thought when I first entered the League."

"The League?"

"The League of Legends," Ezreal said with a small glint of joy in his eye "is where the strongest and most gifted of all of Runeterra face off in truly epic battles. These battles are used for the enjoyment of the public as well as to settle political disputes. There are facilities for everyone no matter what being they are and its just so amazing that I cannot really describe it in words-"

"EZ! We gotta go! Quit your fanboying and get in the 'track! We need to get out of here before the guards stop us." A woman, from her appearance a warrior, was yelling at Ezreal from a window near the front of the construct.

"Sorry Siv. I'm coming now." Ezreal looked back at Xerath. "I'll talk about this when we aren't in danger. Lie down in the back of 'track for now and then we can set off."

A brief grunt came from Xerath, agreeing to the terms. Xerath floated over to the halftrack, and then lay down on the hard steel floor.

"Azel! Mind covering Xerath with this? I need to start the engine." Ezreal called over to a girl in her early twenties that was already in the back of the construct, pointing to a thick canvas.

"But he is Our Savior! Why should we cover him so that we may not see him?"

"Stealth. I do not want the whole of Shurima to know exactly where we are from several clicks away by the light from just one of his eye sockets."

The girl hid her distaste poorly, but sighed and proceeded with the order.

"Sorry Lord, we need to be a bit 'stealthy' for a while. I beg you not to hate me for this."

"I do not. I agree with 'Ezreal'. I've already made enough of an entrance. I could use some peace for a while."

The large canvas blocked his vision. Now he could think in privacy. The engine finally started and the halftrack rushed out of the city.

* * *

By the time Baltzin and a contingent of Council Members had arrived, the temple's blaze had died out. There were reports of the Institute dogs running off back to their masters and those of an immense being of Thunder and Lightning that had appeared from the temple.

Damnation. The dogs had that thing now.

The Horde must know of what happened here.

There would be no way of denying Murakishur their prize now.

Unless Belhorashur can wipe Murakishur out first.

"Seer Baltzin, ride to the Horde. Meet up with the Lord and tell him what has happened here. If we-"

"I understand what I must do Councilmen. Those Champions have annoyed me this entire time. It will be nice to cut them down. I will meet with Lord Vragin when I reach the Horde. Hopefully we will be able to set off in time to catch them at their rendezvous."

"You know where they will go?

"To the only Champion in Shurima that has political power, that damn sorcerer Malzahar. I believe he currently resides in Uebel if my information is correct. I also think it would be nice to bring vengeance upon the Mind-slayer of Icathia after all of his efforts to thwart the plans of previous Hordes."


	11. Chapter 11: The Inside and the Outside

Chapter 11: The Inside and the Outside.

The bright Shuriman sun blazed in the cloudless sky.

Irritating, yet nostalgic. His earliest memories were of the same sun radiating down upon him.

But that was so long ago, and he did not enjoy dwelling on the past beyond what he deemed necessary.

The heavy canvas had been removed off of him, revealing his crystalline body to the world. The air crackled between his claw-like hands, with each sapphire finger ending with an impossibly sharp blade-like edge.

"My Lord, you may lie down again, we have still have a long way ahead."

The girl, Azel he believed she was called, was looking at him. Her face was staring him down with those azure pupils that might puncture stone if she wished so. She showed no evidence of fear of his form, but Xerath knew it was in her mind somewhere that what lay before her was a being who had obliterated her home country many lifetimes ago.

"I am fine, my dear. I have waited millennia to look upon this land once more. I do not wish to be denied such an incredible sight, provided there is a reason not to such as the protection of me and those I wish protected."

Azel showed confusion at his statement, quickly dismissing inquiry into what it meant.

"Might I ask this of you, Azel?" Xerath inquired.

"What is it you wish of me, my Lord?"

"Both Ezreal and Sivir are from this Institute of War, but I have not heard where you come from. Might I ask why you and I are on the same journey?"

"I am here to assist you, my Lord."

"Then why are you assisting me?"

"I think I can explain that." Ezreal shouted over the half-track's loud engine.

"Pray tell then."

"It was an agreement between Azel's father and I, that I would get Azel to the safety of the Institute."

"What do you mean by the 'safety' of the Institute?"

"Shurima has been split into two states, the Belhorashur or the Inner Shuriman Desert, and the Murakishur, the Outer Shuriman Desert. Belhorashur is home to all manner of strategic resources that solidify it as a major supplier to most if not all of Valoran, but then we have Murakishur who control the Outer Desert and thus all trade routes leading in and out of Shurima. If Belhorashur acquires its own secure trade route out of Shurima then it would become a major economic entity, something the Murakishurians do not want and would rather have to themselves. Now there are differences in culture as a result of the relative seclusion of Belhorashur and the more open Murakishur. Decades ago Shurima, as a country, committed many humanitarian crimes that were noticed by the international community. Murakishur, on the outer rim, was more influenced by differing opinion and changed its ways to becoming a fairer state. As Belhorashur is in the Inner Desert, it had significantly less pressure to change its ways, leading to an ethical division between the two nations. Those two factors alone create significant political tension, but if Belhorashur were to establish a secure trading route then that would lead to better deals on materials, meaning that the deals for Belhorashur's trading partners would be significantly better. As businessmen run the world, the whole issue with Belhorashur is pretty much ignored because of the benefits that they would gain from Belhorashur winning this trade war.-"

The half-track almost veered off into a sand bank, only stopped by Sivir's scream.

"DAMN IT EZ! KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!"

"But there is no-"

"I KNOW! J-Just keep driving and stop going on and on with your stupid knowledge sh*t, its doing my head in."

"You did wander off from the topic quite a bit there Ezreal," Xerath stated "Returning back, Belhorashur and Murakishur are opposing states, but why is Azel here?"

"Her father, Nrazin, is or was, the Worship Master of the Thunder Disciples, your followers."

"Ah yes, I know of this 'Nrazin'. He was my first contact with the outside world. Wait a minute, what do you mean was?"

"Just going onto that, okay so the Thunder Disciples were taken into custody after a strike during their prayer session that would have welcomed you back into the world. I talked with Nrazin after the attack and it turned out that them being taken into custody was just to wait for Sivir and I to get out of the city. They would most likely kill the remaining Disciples after that, when no representative of the Institute was there to witness the slaughter of them. Nrazin begged me to take Azel, so that she could serve you and still live. I-I find it hard to turn down the wish of a dying man."

"I see."

Silence followed. Xerath knew not how he felt sadness inside him, but it was there. It was definitely there.

After another hour of naught but desert, the stone arches heralding the entrance to the city of Uesel appeared on the horizon.

"About damn time." Ezreal exclaimed. "I can finally get some damn rest. This bucket of bolts is almost out of juice as well."

A procession came out to greet them, composing of a group of horsemen and a figure riding a barded camel.

"Ezreal! It has been a long time indeed."

"Same to you, Malzahar."

The horses circled the half-track, flanking the vehicle and escorting it through the stone arches ahead.


	12. Chapter 12: An exchange of secrets

Chapter 12: An exchange of secrets.

There were audible gasps of awe coming from the crowd at Xerath's form. Uebel was perhaps the most moderate and welcoming of Murakishur. The tales of a magi who had effectively wiped out the Shuriman empire were remembered, but that was three millennia ago and there were more pressing matters than what happened back then.

Xerath scanned them all with his sight, attempting to not give an impression of arrogance.

Impressions that might improve his chances of redemption in their eyes.

He was still sat in the moving half-track heading to what appeared to be a large palace. Its massive porcelain dome edged with arcane symbols, a sign that magical wards worked as a nexus of sorts to divert projectiles.

An interesting work indeed, but the symbols were decaying and with them formed weak points. Small ones for sure, but Xerath guessed with the potential technology that was constantly moving forward, these weak points could malfunction easily and form arcane bursts as the remaining shield rushed in to fill the gap. He had experienced such phenomena first-hand during his academy days, where they had used the same phenomena to crack brick tiles with shields in the size of mere millimeters.

"Xerath, come on."

The truck had stopped, with Ezreal calling for him in a jovial mood.

Xerath sat up, his tethers reigniting themselves, and moved off the half-track. His feet never touched the sandstone bricks below him as his tethers rebounded off of them, holding Xerath half a foot off the ground when he stabilized.

"I welcome you to Uebel, my fellow friends."

The figure in a purple robe, Malz was it, said with an implied smile that was hid behind the enwrapping robe.

Did they not know what I did to them? No, they do know. But do they not care?

"I heard you had some trouble getting out of Murakishur. Well Ezreal has always had a habit of getting into some form of trouble one way or another. Methinks he might one day actually need a map."

A small chuckle came from Malz, with Ezreal smirking at the joke.

"Not yet Malz, not yet."

"I'm not sure I have introduced myself to you and your, disciple?" Malzahar cleared his throat.

"I am Malzahar, the Prophet of the Void and the High Seer of Uebel. I welcome both of you to this fine city of prosperity. I hope your brief stay here will be remembered fondly."

Xerath responded, bowing his head and replying.

"I thank you, Seer Malzahar. I accept your welcome with honor."

Xerath signaled for Azel to follow suit.

"I thank you, Seer Malzahar. I accept your welcome with utmost humility."

"Do not worry child, you are a disciple of Xerath. I greet you with the same respect as your master."

She wasn't. Azel briefly looked up at Xerath to grant her the illusion of being one of his disciples. Xerath briefly nodded, acknowledging it.

And thus, they were lead into the Fortress Palace of Uebel.

* * *

"Xerath, Sivir and I have stuff we need to do. How about you two just talk with Malz for a little bit."

With that, Ezreal and Sivir disappeared to deal with attaining more fuel and getting the 'bucket of bolts' working again.

"So Xerath, might I ask what your arcane discipline is?"

Xerath turned his head to Malzahar, stunned by this. A Mage's discipline gave immense levels of information about his magic, yet Malzahar asked such a thing of him? In his time, to so quickly declare one's discipline would effectively been suicide because of how the discipline dictated the type of flow the mage would conjure with each one having a specific flow which could very well be adapted on by even the common mage to massively disrupt a spell's arcane balance, resulting in the mage's own fireball blowing up in his face. Was Malzahar really asking this of him?

"My own discipline is…"

HE WAS! Malzahar was actually going to tell him what his discipline was!

"I'm sorry to interrupt Seer Malzahar and neither do I mean disrespect, but I assumed you not to be so naïve and foolish as to simply give away the knowledge of your discipline."

"Mine is already known throughout the world thanks to the League, it will not make a difference, or at least they know of what my powers can do."

"It does make a difference. One's discipline is used to fuel one's powers. One can make different powers or distort powers around one's discipline, but not make new powers through a new discipline."

"I could also say that this is a trust exercise."

Xerath stopped for a moment.

Trust.

It had been a long time indeed since he had been required to rely on such a deadly double-sided blade.

"Xerath, do you wish me to tell you mine?"

Xerath hesitated for another moment.

"Fine then, an exchange of disciplines."

"Psychological Induction."

"Hmm, an interesting one indeed. Mine is Particle Induction."

"YES! Finally another who understands the awesomeness of induction!"

Azel looked at the two mages in puzzlement.

One minute, Lord Xerath and Seer Malzahar had been at odds over these disciplines.

The next, both of them were deep in conversation about the same thing they had been at odds at. How could they do such things?

"Disciple of Xerath, what might your discipline be?"

Azel looked at Malzahar, like her master, stunned at this. She didn't know anything about these disciplines. Her father had told her nothing about them.

"I-I-I d-don't know anything about these disciplines my lord." She said reluctantly.

"Ah. I see. Then we shall figure yours out then shall we? Conjure us a fireball and we shall see what your discipline is."

"Y-Yes, my lords."

She could do that.

Cupping her hand, a kindle appeared above it. It soon swelled into a goblet-sized fireball.

"That is fine my dear, we can use this." Malzahar said plainly.

It wasn't enough, not for such experts into the arcana. The fireball continued to grow in size.

"Azel, enough." Xerath exclaimed. "We do not need power. We need to know what it is. Hold its shape now."

Azel calmed down. The amount of power before her was probably pathetic to what either of these two could muster.

"So Xerath, would you do the honors?"

Xerath gazed into the fire, watching every flicker of light curiously.

He raised his hand and beckoned forth a small tether of electricity that attached itself to the fireball.

"Azel, put one of those apricots into your fireball." Xerath pointed to one of the small dishes standing on a table that had been set out for the three, all of the dishes filled with an assortment of appetizers.

Azel moved over to the table, the fireball still in hand. Taking up one of the apricots in her hand, she tossed it into the flame.

In a whoosh of orange flame the apricot was reduced to naught but ash.

"Arcane Conduction." Xerath declared.

"I believe that means that she had another master before you then, Xerath."

"I-I had my father. The city where I come from do not take magic as a useful art, more as a tool which can be used to do , so I had no chance at formal study into the arcane arts."

"Ah. And what city might that be?"

"N-…" Azel stuttered. She looked down in dismay, for she knew what she was about to say would definitely doom her in this city.

"Nalepsis. Please forgive me for being born from such a place."

Malzahar's furrowed his brow at this. If Azel had not been a disciple of Xerath, then she may well have been declared a spy and summarily executed.

"Xerath, care to explain this to me."

"Fine then. This girl and her father belonged to the Thunder Disciples, a group of followers that noticed my awakening form. Her father was both her teacher and the first human to welcome me back to living after my millennia in isolation. Ezreal made a deal with him to get his daughter to become my disciple while I was still in the ground."

"You could have left her, what did she mean to you."

"She did mean nothing, but I after I realized what the deal was, I lightened up to her. I have already created enough destruction, so I felt and still feel like I need something to use my power on. In this case, her protection."

Malzahar sighed.

"Be thankful that I am not one of those paranoid politicians. If one of them heard about this, then Azel here would have been escorted to one of the dungeons and awaiting a thousand papers to be signed for her execution. I will keep this secret for now. I just beg of you to not tell anyone else of this."

"I understand Seer Malzahar. But I must ask of you to keep my secret as well."

"Very well then, an exchange of secrets. You really are an interesting man, Mage Xerath."

"As are you, Seer Malzahar."


	13. Chapter 13: A merciful distraction

Chapter 13: A merciful distraction.

Something was stopping her from sleeping. Most likely Sivir's drunken rants that echoed from every wall, but there was something else. Something more subtle and minute. The arcane hint somewhat gave it away as well.

It's probably Lord Xerath, Azel thought.

Trying to return to sleep, she rustled the covers of the large and ornate bed she had been given. It was far too large for her liking and the softness of the mattress felt discomforting. Azel was more used to the more rugged and makeshift beds that she and her father had made during her arcane tutoring to make sure they were uninterrupted during training sessions. Those times when they returned home and be welcomed by her mother and the scent of spices that filled the small house that her family had managed to maintain for many decades.

That was all gone now.

Her family was wiped out now.

She was the only one left.

Out of the six brothers and sisters she had grown up with, she was the only one that remained.

Two of them had been lost through illness, another two to a conscription program and her remaining brother cut down in front of her. She was the only one.

Tears welled up inside her. She had not thought about this until now.

The only one.

Brief spasms of muffled crying could be heard outside the door to Azel's room, but no further.

* * *

Hours had passed before she stopped crying, her eyes still red from the tears.

That _thing_ was still there though. That continuous arcane signal.

Like hell am I getting to sleep with that in the background, she thought.

Clothing herself, she went searching for the signal's origin.

* * *

Xerath was performing diagnostics.

There was something wrong in his system.

Errors that had caused significant uncertainty in his control parameters.

True, his magic did have monstrous power, but there was an arcane interference that he could not find which was not in the many equations he had used to calculate such errors.

Irritating.

His current form with his crystalline legs spread out allowed him to triangulate to mere nanometers any differing power gradients that might cause such uncertainty, yet he found none?

He searched deeper into himself, into the very partition containing what remained of his human mind. This would be dangerous indeed, especially if the cycling equilibria of the Catenas were to grab hold of it, which would result in his mind being scrapped and tossed into the depths of the Chains without hope of recovery. Multiple memories of his childhood had gone missing as a result of this process. He had to retain some shred of his humanity in his form. It was the one thing that he could not lose. His power waxed and waned, but this, this must remain. No matter the cost.

He sensed something coming up to the parapet where he was perched.

Xerath recalled his probing mechanism and returned to his focus on the physical realm before him.

His body reformed from the separation, the crystals denoting his legs realigning with conventional human anatomy. He could see so much more of the arcane plane, but his detachment from the physical stopped him from moving through it. An interesting 'mode' indeed.

"My Lor-, wait it's stopped now." Azel withdrew her words as the arcane noise stopped.

"What is it, Azel?"

"I-It's nothing my Lord, there was just this weird magic noise or something coming from up here."

"So people can notice that?" Xerath said under what would have been his breath.

"Y-"

"Never mind Azel, it is nothing."

Azel made movements with her mouth to try to speak, yet nothing formed. After a moment of doing so, she closed her mouth and looked down, acknowledging Xerath's answer.

Silence followed between the two parties.

"Y-You were meditating up here, my Lord?"

"Does it surprise you when there is such a beautiful night sky?"

"What do you mean?"

"I forgot how beautiful it was. The stars, not blighted by the presence of clouds, in all of their eternal vigilance."

"It's been a long time since I have ever looked up at the stars. There just has never been a time I wanted to. I remember a night from my childhood where my father pointed out Aurion-"

Azel grew silent, remembering the times she had spent with her family. There were so many times that she was thankful of them, for all that they had done.

They were all gone.

Why were they all gone?

Why did they have to go?

Why?

Xerath looked on at the girl trembling before him.

He could guess what she had stopped at.

She looked so weak and fragile. Something a mere desert gust could touch and shatter like glass.

He knew one thing that might help her. A distraction, a conversation of some sorts to rid her of the torments.

"Oh yes! Do you remember what we were discussing with Seer Malzahar about?"

Azel looked up at Xerath, her eyes red from the silent tears.

"We-We were talking about d-disciplines, r-right?"

"I never got around to actually explaining what the disciplines are. Do you wish to know?"

Xerath didn't like consorting with people in such a condescending manner, but to keep Azel's tears at bay, this seemed like the only way he knew how. Curses.

"Y-Yeah, I guess you d-didn't."

"So a discipline is the manner in which your magic takes form. Masters tend to pass down their own discipline to their students, which, because of your differing discipline, was the reason why Malzahar found it auspicious. I know of cases where such things have happened with a change in the control method, but it is rare for one to have both the control and medium different from their master."

Azel looked at him blankly. Control? Medium? The hell was this?

"Ah… I forgot the more important part. Excuse my tangent. A discipline is split into two parts, the control method, and the medium. The medium of a discipline comes first in the denomination, of which there are three different media, these being Physical, Arcane, and Psychological. Physical media uses the physical realm to transfer the effects of a spell, so a fireball would use raw flame produced from a chemical reaction to burn a target. Arcane media uses direct arcane energy as its media, so an arcane fireball would flood the target with fire magic, burning it to ash. Now Psychological, or Psyche, is an interesting one in that it works on the mind itself. This means that a fireball of Psyche media would burn as an arcane media, but the effects would scar the nerves with immense amplified pain, more so than either arcane or physical media."

Xerath looked once again at Azel. Her tears had stopped and her eyes were focused on his speech.

Good. This is working.

"The control method is how the magic is controlled by the mage. I know of three of these, but I learned this eons ago so the information may be outdated. There is Conduction, Induction, and Insulation forms of control. Conduction is about the mage having direct connection with the magic, so that he may directly control the fireball as it is flying in addition to being able to directly influence the size of the explosion. This is by far the most common of the three control methods because of its ease of use. Induction is about indirect control of the magic, using parameters to set and stabilize the power. This one is all about separating oneself from the magic, using what is known as parameters to control the size, power and the basic effects of the spell. For example, an Induction fireball would have parameters of having the size of, say, a goblet, having an induced energy with a value of the total energy stored inside a dried log, and finally the introduction of the fire element to feed off the energy. This may sound strange, but it is a hard process to describe when I am giving a very short course to a complete novice. Training into the art of induction took me three years for just the basic calculations that one needs to generate the parameters alone. That aside, Insulation is even stranger. Insulation control is most commonly associated with magical warding, but any shield can be a weapon if you know how to use it. Insulation is very difficult to describe, but the most common forms of Insulation involve using bursts of high velocity 'capsules' of incredibly concentrated magic or large waves of disruptive magic. Both of these take large amounts of energy and, for the latter, are indiscriminate in their effect. In terms of a fireball, an Insulation fireball would often have a 'shell' of arcane shielding with an intense center of elemental fire magic."

Xerath looked once again at Azel. Her vacant expression told him that she had been listening. That was until her mind had been fried by the information coming at her.

At least she had cheered up.

He was thankful he had managed to calm her down.

"Getting back to what your discipline is, yours is Arcane Conduction, perhaps the most common discipline and is the main idea people have of magic. These two mean that your fireballs are in the arcane spectra and thus can be redirected using arcane warding and your control can be distorted by others given enough time to, 'hack' shall we say, your magic, resulting in you losing control. This means that for Conductors, they have a harder time with counter-spells because of how they have constant control of their magic."

"For myself, as a Physical Inductor, I have less to worry about counter spells because I rely on complex parameters to control my spells and have little contact with the spell itself. I do, however, rely on the physical plane to conduct my energy meaning that physical shielding can stop it but I have more than enough raw power to overcome any conventional armor with ease. However, if I were to tell someone beforehand that I was an inductor, an opposing party may spend immense amounts of time deciphering the induction parameters and would grant them access to my abilities. This is why I was disagreeing with Malzahar earlier about him disclosing his discipline when we had only just met."

"So… why have I only heard of this now? I mean, I've found anything about it. Why did my father not tell me anything about it?"

"Because Conductors are idiots. It does not matter to them what sort of enemy they come up against, they can always just conjure up a spell and hope it works. Inductors and Insulators are different. To them it does matter because they cannot work in the same way conductors do. In my Academy days, out of the several thousand in the academy, only four dozen were not Conductors. Of those, only five were Insulators. I should know that much. After all, one of them was…"

Xerath paused for a moment, remembering the lost past.

"…My closest friend."

Something was on the horizon.

It was far away, perhaps several kilometers, but Xerath could sense it.

A sporadic distortion on the arcane spectra.

Null magic materials.

Idiots, activating such things at such a range would only waste energy and provide an advance warning to any magician with even the slightest of talent.

But the size of the distortion was massive, perhaps stretching almost a kilometer across. Whatever it meant, it was strong.

Incredibly strong.


	14. Chapter 14: A time for retribution

Chapter 14: A time for retribution.

"Seer Malzahar! We have a problem."

"A massive arcane distortion?"

"Yes sir. B-But how did yo-"

"I am a mage, I can sense a distortion of that magnitude."

"Uh-"

"Continue."

"A massive force is approaching Uebel. The High Governor seeks your council."

Malzahar sighed. This whole business with Xerath was getting more and more annoying by the minute, and now he had to face off against this force from Belhora.

"Of what magnitude are we talking about?"

"A whole kilometer in radius. It is most likely a Horde." The guard's tone lowered, frightened by the sheer scale of the force despite all his efforts to hide it.

And there it was. Ruining his supposed 'time off'.

It just HAD to be a Horde. The Institute better give me some damn compensation for having to deal with this metric pile of sh*t. Even Champions of the League would have trouble dealing with one simply because of its sheer scale. He had been able to halt one single-handedly, but that had taken half a fortnight for his magic to drain the Horde and that one was far less prepared for him. The massive distortion from null-magic materials showed that they had prepared this time. Uebel was also less heavily guarded than the trade city of Himos.

Significantly less well guarded.

At least it was a fortress, albeit an old and decaying one.

There still was Xerath though.

A trump card? Maybe.

Whatever spells Xerath could use, his energy was massive.

I pray hope that he can work through the null-magic.

Xerath was the best option.

"Sir-"

"Yes. I will provide council. First though, I must find Xerath. And I know where I might find him."

* * *

Malzahar rushed up the stairs of the towering spire. After about a minute of climbing, he resorted to his magic to aid him. He floated on upwards on some alien miasma that none could describe accurately without its form rapidly mutating before a decision could be made. As Malzahar reached the last few steps he withdrew his power, calmly returning his feet to the ground. Climbing the few remaining steps, he found Xerath along with his 'disciple'. It looked as if Xerath had been lecturing her. Whatever they had been discussing was enough to distract her simple mind.

"Xerath, I must ask two more things of you."

"What is it you wish of me?"

A hint of resentment? Are you so fond of her to warrant such caution?

"Operational range and energy magnitude."

Xerath seemed to understand what was required.

"My estimations suggest a fall-off of two and a half kilometres and a maximum energy magnitude of logarithm ten Joules. Enough to deal with them."

That was a massive amount of power to wield. Logarithm ten Joule magic was on par with tactical Rune weapons employed by Demacia and Noxus during the infamous Rune Wars. The Institute had informed him that this Xerath did have incredible power, but even this level of power was astonishing.

"But know that I cannot wipe them out. Shurima has already been devastated by my power eons ago. I do not wish to repeat that calamity."

"Fine. Come then, the Governor seeks our council. I guess this operation will require you as artillery support most likely. I will most likely be on the frontlines as a charge-breaker. You are damn lucky to have such range. I've already faced off against a Horde once five years ago. This is no simple battle like the proud fools of Demacia and Noxus would like it. In this battle, anything goes. And I mean anything. Take care, Mage Xerath."

"Let us bring arcane might down upon them like which none have seen!"

"That I will do gladly."

A Horde? That was the same response that she was given when her two eldest siblings had disappeared five years ago. Was Malzahar the same person as the Mind Slayer of Icathia? The tale of the Mind Slayer was common throughout the Inner Desert and rightly so. The Mind Slayer had stricken and annihilated the sanity of a thousand during the siege of Himos. Was the man before her the same man who had snuffed out the lives of Ismel and Kiloi using Xenos magic?

"Disciple of Xerath, I apologize to you. There may have been people close to you who I laid waste to, but know that this is war, not some friendly competition between 'friendly' states."

He was! The Mind Slayer stood before her! Any other Belhorashurian would have most likely taken a dagger at this point and plunged it in his chest. But he would simply blast their mind apart before they could even do that. Even then, that would not return Ismel and Kiloi from the dead.

"Azel."

Azel looked up at Xerath who stood over her in all his might.

"We both know what Belhorashur has done to its undesirables. What I do today will change that forever. Know that I am doing what I believe is right. Your father wanted the same thing from me, to change Shurima for the better. The time for that is now. This shall be their retribution. Come along now, I will need you in the coming battle."

The tiniest of smiles appeared on Azel's face for a moment.

Now is the time of vengeance. For her family and all those under Belhora's tyrannical rule.

* * *

"High Seer Malzahar, it is a pleasure you could join us."

"I thank you Governor Vhalitz. What is the current situation?"

"Reconnaissance shows multiple cohorts of Cavalry and Infantry supported by siege weapons and what appears to be multiple Bellua Arcana so there are mages present in the force."

Vhalitz looked over at Xerath, then back to Malzahar.

"I assume Mage Xerath will be supporting us?"

"Correct. He has enough range to deal with the artillery I believe as well as enough power to destroy them swiftly."

"Good." Vhalitz looked over to Xerath. "Xerath, your primary mission is to destroy the artillery before it can do serious damage. Second priority is marked targets or Infantry columns. Know that as soon as either side starts firing, the battle will begin. If you fire before we are ready, then they will charge our lines which considering our weak forces would not bode well for us. But if we are ready, send a signal before you fire. The faster we remove that artillery, the better. Knowing common military strategy, they will most likely soften us up using their artillery followed by a cavalry and Arcane Beast charge to wreak havoc upon us before sending in the infantry to clear out the city. While you focus on the backline, Malzahar will tie up the Beast and cavalry charge with his powers. Reinforcements should arrive in a day's time in the least, so if we can hold this one single day then they have lost the battle. Colonel Pasol will give you the coordinates of the artillery and assist you in pointing out marked targets."

"Governor Vhalitz, if I may, I would like to have my disciple at my side."

"That is fine with me. Get the job done and I have no complaints. Colonel Pasol! Get Mage Xerath up to date with our strategy and the artillery coordinates."

"Yes sir! If you would like to follow me, Mage Xerath."

Colonel Pasol escorted Xerath and Azel out of the makeshift situation room.

"Seer Malzahar, you know what I wish of you."

"Being directly on the frontlines has never been a hobby of mine you realize?"

"Himos more than proved that it might well be something you are adept at. I have also watched some of the battles you partake in the League of Legends. Know that Shurima will always praise you for that action."

"Demacia and Noxus are both very large, with Ionia, Zaun and Piltover coming close to their presence. Shurima though…" Malzahar sighed. "Some of these things you cannot control. Politics included."

"Your League compatriots Ezreal and Sivir might wish to join this battle."

"Sivir is currently in one of the deepest hangover slumbers I have ever witnessed. And Ezreal, I do not wish him to intervene. This is Shuriman business, he is best to provide another witness to the battle ahead and get Institute permission to end these pathetic assaults by Belhorashur once and for all."

"Alright then enough idle chit-chat, we have a superior foe to face. I want you on the frontlines. First priority is stopping that cavalry charge. Second priority is to blast the mind of any Arcane Beast you find without mercy. Follow Major Beil to meet with Guard commander Jinai, I wish you luck in your endeavor."

"I will take any luck I can gather as I know I'm damn well going to need it. Himos was a hard one despite all of its defenses, so this is the gates of hell spilling forth all of its monstrosities. I have been through one hell before, and that was far from pretty."


	15. Chapter 15: Cry 'Havoc'

Chapter 15: Cry 'Havoc!'

The Horde was vast.

A kilometer radius was indeed large, but numbers could only say so much. Even from the flat-topped hall in the center of Uebel, Xerath could still see the ranks of the Horde. Thousands of distant pixels moving ever closer towards him.

Come then. We are waiting. Come rain arrows and your simple magic upon us and I shall return it ten fold in naught but a scant second! I will rend the very tyranny you represent from this plane with arcane might that should so rightly have been locked away for eternity!

This power is mine and it is mine alone!

And it shall be the end of you!

Xerath was meditating, or at least it looked like it.

His 'fingertips' were touching each other and his faceless form managed to show some kind of disconnection from everything around him.

If Xerath is this powerful, then I was only shown a mere fragment of power during his ascension from his tomb, Azel thought. He is going full out on this one.

The noise returned to her ears.

"I am ready."

"Good. Seer Malzahar and Commander Jinai almost have the guard in order. Limited activity from the Horde. Could be setting up their artillery and gods know what else they have in store. Target an artillery location and wait on stand-by for their strike or when Commander Jinai is ready." Pasol had no expression, fully immersed in what was to be the greatest battle of his life. Uebel had sent reinforcements to Himos five years ago but only a few had returned from the siege. His mentor had gone and vanished just like so many others had.

"Very well. Azel!"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Assist Colonel Pasol in communicating targets to me. As soon as I start to charge my energy, I will be unable to communicate in the physical plane. I need you to tell him any change in my target priority and for him to coordinate with the frontline."

"I-Very well, my Lord. I will do so to the best of my ability!"

"Good, I will begin now."

The structure shook as Xerath synchronized with the magical flow of the world, shaking off loose sand from the structure, falling onto the streets below. An intense pyre of crackling blue energy formed beneath him.

He could no longer hear the sounds of the small team behind him constantly receiving word from the frontline and reconnaissance elements. Only small incoherent distortions suggested their presence.

His form distended as the Chains weakened, seeping long lost energies back into him. It felt good to have such power within him, ready to be called on at any instant. His vision watched over Uebel, its defenders and the Horde that could very well annihilate all of them.

Not while I still draw strength.

He searched through the Horde, small flickers of light denoting every single human existence. There were other, stranger flickers, some hard to make out because of the wards surrounding them while others were beings of arcane might.

He spied the artillery, ballistae with what seemed to be an arcane launching mechanism. More conventional artillery such as catapults was being rolled into position and mighty trebuchets being constructed were also present. The null magic wards would dissipate some of his energy, but not enough to completely stop his onslaught.

Compiling magical energies, he charged his first round to send into the Horde.

Now we play the waiting game.

* * *

Baltzin looked out over at the city of Uebel from his mount.

He was no soldier. He preferred a desk job. He really preferred a desk job.

He did not care much about the total annihilation of Murakishur, more of his own well being. Destroying Murakishur would be nice, as long as he was not involved in any of the battles.

But he was here in the Horde. Better hope that he would not need to deal with actual combat. If the Horde were somehow defeated, then nothing would save him.

But that was impossible. Not with all of the support they had been given from the other cities. Even groups of cultists had joined the Horde, their alien ways adding to the strength of the Horde. One group known as the Terrorum Dominae had approached Lord Vragin and had asked for an outrageous number of slaves to complete a ceremony of theirs. With this, they promised a way to obliterate Uebel with a being so powerful that not even a champion of the League of Legends would be able to take it down. Vragin accepted it, the naïve fool. They had been keeping their word so far, with the ceremony under way before him. But once this _being_ emerged, what would stop it from wiping us out instead of the enemy?

This was why he hated royalty, thinking that they always had the right answer and if you just so happened to dislike it, then the chopping block awaited. Such a simple and base threat.

There was a strange noise in the air, like a fly buzzing, but where was the damnable thing coming from?

"Seer Baltzin, why is your expression so dire?" Lord Vragin spoke from upon his elephant mounted dais, filled with luxuries that lesser men could not even dream of.

And Baltzin thought that he had impressed the Explorer with his feast.

"It is nothing Lord Vragin, I simply distrust these cultists. Not so much as to say it was a poor idea, just that they have nothing to prove their worth just yet."

"Are they not doing as I say? Their warriors are meat-shields for us at the front of the lines, while their sorcerers are right in front of us surrounded by my most loyal of guards. If they do not fulfill their task, then I shall make every single one of them an example to those who displease me. I have complete control over them."

No you do not, you arrogant lumbering oaf.

"As you say so, my Lord. Excuse my moment of doubt."

"The fireworks from our artillery should be starting soon. I pray hope those custom shells provide an entertaining display of devastation."

Custom? Please do not tell me this pig had spent vast amounts of precious gold on some shells that were flashier and had far too many advanced adjectives attached to them to appeal to his simple dull mind.

"Lord Vragin, the Cavalry divisions are ready and waiting on your orders."

"Excellent news, Major Joumu. Seer Baltzin, please proceed to the Nalepsian regiment. We will show these simple worms the meaning of war! My late Father would be proud to know that I have orchestrated this truly immense force."

Your father would be rolling in his grave laughing knowing that his brutish and simple son would be orchestrating this. Lord Tragin was a military genius and renowned tactician who was only stopped by the final efforts of the Mind-Slayer. He would look down upon you with utter disgust at this raw amount of brawn with no brain behind it. Our forces may be superior from his crusade five years ago, but Lord Tragin managed to drag Himos to its knees with no flashy toys or mad cultists summoning some behemoth.

"Yes my Lord."

* * *

Baltzin spurred his horse onwards to his Nalepsian regiment. The Nalepsian council had organized this punishment from those Champions discovering what Belhora did to some… unnecessary cults. Far away, he heard the sound of battle cries and the thundering charge of hoofs on sand. That should mean the assault has begun.

Baltzin continued on towards his regiment, when he heard the crack of tough rope and the groan of wooden gears. About fifty meters away, a group of onagers had begun launching their ordnance into Uebel.

A few moments later, a bright flash.

A deafening blast.

The ground itself heaved from an immense power forced into it.

Baltzin managed to cover his eyes, only for his horse to bray in terror.

The heat baked the right side of his body in agony, causing him to grimace from the surging pain.

Then the shockwave hit both mount and rider, knocking them to the ground with the force of a rhinoceros. The vibrations ran throughout his entire body.

Immense pain flooded Baltzin as his leg cracked from the beast's fall. He cried out, but he heard nothing other than the ringing in his ears.

What seemed like an eternity passed him.

Everything was slowed to a mere fraction of what it should be.

Intense feelings of numbness entered his body, only for pain to resurge back into him, as well as all of his other senses. Muffled, yes, but his senses were there.

"Seer Baltzin! Stay with me! Som'one get a healer! Officer down over 'ere!"

Baltzin grimaced in pain from his fractured leg.

"Thank the gods! Umiy! Help me get the Seer from under this 'ere horse!"

After much effort, the two soldiers barely managed to lift the shocked horse off from Baltzin's form. After a brief lapse in the beast's conscience, it righted itself and ran off across the desert panicking.

Baltzin remained on the ground, still trying to deal with the pain saturated in his body. Lifted by the two soldiers, he found where the blast had come from.

It had come directly from the place where the onagers had been mere seconds before.

Arcs of white lightning the size of men fizzled at the center of the blast site, with each point of the arc melting both sand and steel with the force of a blacksmith's forge. At the very center, the sand had turned to glass from the immense power forced upon it.

Was this? It was!

Whatever that being of Thunder and Lightning was, it was here, siding with Murakishur.

Sh*t.

That thing was no mere legend.

Baltzin tried to stand.

He could not.

His right side was baked by the heat blast while his left leg had been crushed under his panic stricken horse.

* * *

"Don't worry sir, we can patch you up." The apothecary said with a weak smile, knowing that Baltzin's left leg was unsalvageable. The right side of Baltzin's body would be fine though, if but a little painful for the next few months.

"I thank you apothecary, but I need to see my troops immediately."

"With respect, sir, you can't with those injuries."

"LIEUTENANT!" A booming voice cried from inside the apothecary's tent. "Orders from Command to assemble all Infantry regiments and make ready for the assault."

"YES SIR!" The apothecary returned back to Baltzin. "In your current condition you are unsuited for battle and we cannot have anyone slow down the assault. Your men will have to do it without you."

Do it without him.

This may well save him.

My brother may well be right for worshipping you, demon.

The buzzing had returned.

That could mean only one thin-

The ground rumbled once more from another immense blast of energy, sending a cloud of sand into the sky itself, imbued with crackling lightning.

IT COULD DO THAT AGAIN SO SOON?

There is no way that we will be able to hold this position.

He may be targeting the artillery, but how is he so accurate? There is no Mage known to be able to tactically remove such a small target from this range!

As long as there are bigger threats though, he won't need to target this location again. Well at least my skin is saved, for now.

* * *

"_Targets Alpha and Beta removed." _Xerath communicated to Azel.

"_I hear you, my Lord. Commander Pasol had designated Lambda and Omega as next priority."_

"_It shall be done."_

Xerath surveyed the damage from his gaze, focusing on how the wards were reacting to his onslaught. If he could get beyond the disruptive warding, then his ordnance strength would increase significantly. But he had not yet cracked the warding barriers to do so. Until then, his efficiency would be lacking.

This was going to take slightly longer than he had predicted.


	16. Chapter 16: Let loose the dogs of war

Chapter 16: Let loose the dogs of war.

Malzahar was on the frontlines, waiting for the Horde to meet his power.

Himos had showed his power to the world. It was not beautiful or particularly precise. What it could do, however, was rend the minds of entire armies with ease. Immense beasts were no problem either, as all simple brutes would fall no matter their size.

Mind War was a common spell known to all as a dangerous and unreliable spell, but when an induced Void nightmare was introduced, Malzahar was at minimal risk to his own psyche. Very few people, no, very few _beings_ could stand against the Void and even less likely to not have psychological scars in the aftermath.

He could hear the clutter of spears behind him as the Uebel Guard forces were nervously waiting for the inevitable cavalry charge.

Malzahar knew what it was like to stare down such a charge. The hooves would thunder against the ground with such power that it should have been classed as an average earthquake, the deafening battle cries blocking out every order the superiors would give and the truly devastating force it delivered from lane, sword and axe. A successful charge could remove entire infantry columns from the battle even from a dozen horsemen.

That was why he was here.

To not allow them that luxury of a good charge.

A dust cloud appeared in the distance. The rumble of earth confirming

Xerath has started? That means-

A large blast of green tinted fire came from behind him.

Several men were reduced to smoldering pulp while others were screaming as their limbs had been scattered by the explosion.

SH*T!

Malzahar hushed his startled camel, looking back to the Horde's position.

An onrush of sand blasted him.

A conjured sandstorm? Such parlor tricks.

A very distant roar of hooves on sand immediately stopped his thoughts.

Well then.

"Commander Jinai! We need Xerath to take out the mage responsible for this sandstorm. Now!"

"Copy that."

Another strange sound came out of the storm. The barking of hounds?

To his right, he saw a hound the size of a horse jump upon the Guard, which ripped a man's head with ease. The sound of other hounds resounded across the Guard ranks, followed by screaming and retaliating spears skewering some of the hell-spawned dogs.

A closer explosion of Xerath's making echoed to him, followed by the harsh wind slowing and dissipating. The mage was taken care of. Good.

Another Hellhound emerged out of the calming storm, eyeing Malzahar with clear intent of its obvious move.

It was akin to a weird Hyena-wolf hybrid, its scimitar fangs bore circling him, thinking Malzahar easy prey. It began its pounce.

Malzahar held his hand up, blasting the hound with a wave of alien origin.

The hound's mind was snuffed out like a candle, its corpse falling hard on the sand without even a sound. His camel was scared, but its experience with Himos had allowed it to quickly calm itself. Betty is always reliable, Malzahar thought.

Other Hellhounds pounced out from the decaying sandstorm, hungry for man-flesh.

Their feasts were interrupted by cold stabs of steel, ripping into their tough hides like blunt knives cutting muscle.

Only a few Hellhounds remained, with the remaining beasts rounded up and cut down. At least that is done. Ordnance continued to rain down on Uebel, but the frequency had been significantly reduced thanks to Xerath's efforts.

A massive wave of cavalry rode into view on the horizon.

"Now is where the battle really begins. Ready yourself Commander, I'm about to show you things that go beyond reality."

Malzahar closed his eyes, completely calming his breath.

He felt energy surge inside him.

The sound of thundering hooves approached.

Reality warped two hundred meters away from him.

The roar of battle cries drowned everything out.

**NIHILI VORAGO!**

* * *

Reality itself cracked like glass, leaving two gaping holes into a world of utter chaos and mutation.

So many just lost their lives from the alien maw spewing raw unrefined energy into them. Some fused with their horses, their skin melting like slag while their bones contorted into twisted and sickening trees of bone and muscle, their very beings now void of material laws. Some were even possessed by Void entities, mutating them into creatures that could not even spawn from nightmares. Another man and his horse exploded in a display of red mist, covering his allies in his still boiling blood.

A war elephant cried out in pain as its bones protruded out from its skin into a living fortress of tusk.

The two portals sparked with magenta and violet lightning that slagged and cauterized steel and flesh with equal power, creating long tendrils that thrashed out in the middle of the cavalry charge. Man and horse were eviscerated by their slightest touch. As the portals' tendrils finally met, Void Space was established, allowing more energy to flood in to the unlucky men trapped by the prison.

The two portals merged into a single door to the alien dimension.

More and more energy flooded the Space, soaking every atom with raw chaos.

It was time to close it.

As Malzahar clutched his hands, the gaping maw slowly closing shut as the wound in space sewed itself shut, returning all of Void space back to where it came along with all inside. As the maw collapsed, the air itself hummed with the energy produced from the dimensional rift.

In a final cacophonous blast of energy that blasted men and horse aside, the remnants of all that had happened disappeared. In the minute of hell Malzahar had unleashed, only white-hot sand remained.

The cavalry backed off from the catastrophic damage Malzahar had wrought upon them. They had been thinned significantly and all of their momentum had been stopped. That had not stopped them though as the commanders barked their orders to reform and continue onwards. Such were the casualties of battle.

He would need more than a single spell to stop them.

Malzahar knew that it was a given.

He was panting slightly, not the best of signs.

He could go on though.

He could handle so much more.

This was only the beginning.

Malzahar steadied himself once more, ready to cast another spell.

Powers surged inside him once more.

**AGER SIPHONEM ANIMARUM!**

The ground beneath the reforming horsemen festered and bubbled, sending those above into intense hysteria from the noxious energies that filled their minds with nightmares. From every corpse rose a vapor of souls, returning it to the festering ground.

* * *

"Lord Vragin, the summoning is almost finished."

"Oh good! Hurry along then, get whatever you have to destroy Uebel."

"Before that, my lord, we would ask of you this one thing?"

"Speak quickly then, cultist. My interest can only be taxed so long."

"My lord, do you wish **complete** control over the colossus? Your intellect and presence on the battlefield will send the worms scurrying away into the ground."

"My interest is yours. Then tell me, how might I attain the control."

"It is simple, my Lord. Just drink from this chalice."

The cultist priest held up a chalice containing some form of thick wine to Vragin.

"It is that simple?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"This power shall be mine then. Give it here."

Vragin downed the sweet wine immediately, not concerned for what it actually was.

Power would be his! No brother or sister of his would be able to handle Father's empire.

He felt his mind wane as his eyes closed.

"CULTIST! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO LORD VRAGIN!" The Lord General Humnis rushed to Vragin's side.

"I've prepared him for his reincarnation."

"SAY YOUR MEANING BEFORE EVERY LAST ONE OF THE TERRORUM DOMINAE ARE SLAUGHTERED AND THE TOLERATION OF YOUR HERETICAL WAYS ARE REVOKED!"

The priest pointed over to the summoning altar, where the ground quaked with arcane energy.

"I must return to my practice now. If we do not finish the ceremony then Lord Vragin will be gone for good."

Humnis was seething with rage, his teeth bared like some feral animal. He calmed himself, looking back at the priest with eyes still filled with rage.

"FINE! Get back to conjuring your false deity, Cultist." Humnis barked, before returning to Vragin's side, trying to make sense with his uneducated mind.

Returning back to the altar, the priest spoke to the heavens.

"We welcome you back to the living, Lord of Earth! All the world's beings came from you and so tax must be paid in return! To you, we offer these sacrifices of blood and magic! We ask you harbor this one soul as a beacon of our strength to the unbelievers! They have betrayed your blessing of their existence! Return their Heresies with your mighty and holy wrath! I BRING YOU FORTH INTO THIS WORLD!"

As slave blood saturated the sand, the priest poured the last drop of blood wine to the ground.

The Earth responded with a quaking roar, the sands shifting as immense boulders stirred from their millennia long slumber.

* * *

Malzahar drew his blood soaked blade from another horseman. Thanks to him, the massive charge had been averted and decimated. The Uebel Guard had stood fast, thankfully. Xerath's interception of annihilating multiple Bellua Arcana had also helped significantly. The few remaining horsemen were falling back, so depleted their numbers that the once monstrous school of horsemen had been replaced with a handful of minnows. The Guard had taken significant losses, but the level had been comparatively less than the casualties sustained in Himos during those first few hours of battle.

Himos, the memories of that hell were constantly creeping back into his mind. There had been none of this arcane bombardment back then. It was a simple melee death match that had changed with Horde flanks and Fabian strategy removing any hope of reinforcement for Himos. The General back then was absolutely legendary, his only downfall being the entrance of Malzahar to the Defense of the city.

But this one, this mere brute general, was nothing more than a simple fool whose only thought was destruction by the most impressive means possible and the knowledge that he would be put into the history books.

Definitely in the history books, as a complete failure.

The ground quaked with raw power.

Xerath had been going at it non-stop since the battle had begun.

"_Malzahar, do you read me?"_

"_Xerath? What is it?"_

"_I know what you may be thinking and it isn't me. It is something different. The wards around the center of the Horde have just distorted __**massively**__. There is something coming, and the scale is massive. Ready yourself for anything."_

"_Copy that. I might know something that can defeat it."_

"_IT'S HERE! Should be on your 2 o' clock. Halt it. I may be able to interrupt the control mechanisms governing its movement. With luck, I could even get it to turn on the Horde itself. I just need time to break any safeguards down."_

Stones towered above the world, forming an immense colossus of rock and earth.

A Golem. Colossus class.

The Golems at the Institute were less than babes compared to this monster.

More rock and stone continuously attached itself to the beast, each piece solidifying into bones the size of an entire palace. The 'eye' belched forth arcane light from its head, illuminating the ground below in some unholy blood red aura.

A Titan class Golem.

Such things were unheard of.

The energy required to sustain them was truly massive, equal to its immense size.

Its limbs could have easily extended and reached the sky if it so wanted.

The hulking Titan being completed, its weight finally caught up with it, lowered its two massive bulging arms down to the ground like a gorilla to stabilize itself.

With effort, it started its own advance, uncaring for those that were crushed under its incredible stone mass.

Monsters must be used to fight monsters I guess.

Time for me to show mine.

**COME FORTH! KANSER VORAGINIS!**

A massive magenta blade pierced the fabric of reality with a resounding blast of energy.

The blade slowly sloughed off its ichor of energy, revealing a monstrous claw of barbed chitin.

The blade-claw dragged its way down through reality's fabric, leaving a gaping maw of chaos in its wake.

More ichor spilled forth from the wound, in turn sloughing off to reveal an immense and alien crustacean.

A Void crab.

Clicking its mandibles, it watched and measured up its opponent with three slanted compound eyes. Knowing the high possibility of taking down the Titan, it snapped its chitin claws and began its assault on the monstrous being.


	17. Chapter 17: Tyrannicide

Chapter 17: Tyrannicide.

The two monsters clashed, their melee echoed throughout the ground pronouncing the epic struggle between them.

Each sweep of the Void crab's claw drew rubble from the Titan, but every wound sewed itself back together from the immense earthen energy pouring into the Golem.

Like hell would the Void crab be able to actually kill this thing.

It would only be a matter of time for the Void crab to dematerialize back to void space or for the Golem to land multiple hits on the crustacean. The Golem was slow and lumbering, but the Crab would eventually tire out from dodging the hulk's attacks. The sheer mass from one of its fists would crumple the crab's chitin with no effort.

Come on Xerath, I need you to find some way to stop this thing. And we need it now.

* * *

Xerath had destroyed all designated targets. The only threat now was the Titan class Golem that was now in combat with that monstrous alien crab that Malzahar had conjured from a plane Xerath wished he had not known of.

Yet the crab was losing its agility, so any chance of it winning were slim with even the best of luck.

I need to stop that thing.

A massive ward dome prevented his prying eyes from having a glimpse into the sustaining ritual that was fueling the Titan.

It might work better if he focused on using the Titan as a spying glass into the ritual. If the ritual was constantly pouring energy into the Golem, then working back through the power flow might be possible. From there, it would be a matter of finding out how the ritual worked and halting it. It may backfire, but what choice did he have when the warding was so strong. He did not have full grasp of his power. Uncontrolled power was a dangerous thing.

And he full well knew what it could lead to.

* * *

The Void crab's assault continued on his body. His body was constantly regenerating itself though, completely nullifying its efforts at even making a scratch in his colossal form. His body knew no pain now, only senses of loss of matter existed for him. Raising his right arm above him, he swung it at the annoyance.

It managed to dodge his strike again.

Once more it clawed at his skin, with massive chunks of stone blasting off of the wound. And once more, his body regenerated itself, uncaring of the wound it had sustained mere moments ago.

This _thing_ was absolutely pathetic, thinking it could actually defeat him.

It was time to stop toying around.

_A strange buzzing sound._

Could well be something to do with the ritual, nothing to be concerned about.

* * *

Xerath had managed to break down the safeguard wards, allowing him sight into the very heart of the ritual.

By the Fates, what sick creature would even think of doing this?

He felt human vitality everywhere. It saturated the entirety of the magic conduit to the Titan. It was absolutely suffocating how much energy was in here.

That meant one thing.

Human blood.

But there was something even worse.

There were _additives_ to it.

The blood had been completely saturated in raw magical energy.

He sensed the blood even breaking decomposing from the immense concentration.

This was absolutely unforgiveable.

Enriched blood circuits had been outlawed in his time because of the immense cost of human life to dilute and transfer large amounts of arcane energy through otherwise difficult conduits. Human blood could sustain significantly higher concentrations of magic better than most other common animals, and its relative abundance would make most people jump at the chance to use it. The real problem arose when significant energies broke down the blood cells, releasing the absorbed magic and causing an incredibly powerful chain reaction.

It also explained the massive ward strength. These circuits caused massive arcane disruption, thereby disrupting spell parameters and weakening them.

It sounded like the best option was to detonate the circuit. The explosion would effectively wipe out the central infantry column as well as the falling debris from the Titan would halt any assault long enough for the reinforcements of neighboring cities to arrive and the Horde would be stopped once and for all.

Even still, he would be eliminating several thousand lives. Does the price out way the benefit? Surely there must be a better way. Then why can I find none? Why must those thousands die?

But had he not already killed thousands? Countless numbers had died from his Ascension. What did a few thousand souls matter to him?

No.

I will not think of myself as a simple murderer.

Those were unfortunate casualties, incredibly unfortunate souls who were caught up in my destiny. They will not die without my consideration of what happened to them.

But what of the now? If he had not contributed to the defense, then Uebel would have fallen by now. Ezreal and Sivir would be taken hostage, perhaps even executed. Malzahar would definitely be killed, his body strung up on the highest parapet as a message to all that opposed Belhorashur. And then Azel…

Azel would be killed as a traitorous witch, put on display as a reminder of what happened to deserters and traitors.

I will not allow that to happen.

If thousands should die for the security of my assets, then it matters not.

They must fall, for my promise to Nrazin. They brought their own doom upon themselves. This is their retribution. There is no other way now.

He began to weave the Titan's doom, to sever its power flow and to annihilate the conjurers of this twisted machination. He delved into the control mechanisms, finding the strands to weave its doom with every glance inside of the circuit.

* * *

The Void crab was getting slower. It was only a matter of minutes before the Titan could land a direct hit and claim its life. Xerath needs to be ready now or else this day will be theirs.

Malzahar was panting heavily, the summoning costing him significant amounts of mana to sustain the crab in real space. Even if the Titan was brought low, he doubted that he could go on for much longer after that. The fact that the Horde's Infantry was advancing was only making the situation worse. The Guard would make a valiant last stand, but Uebel would fall if the Titan was not eliminated in the next few minutes.

Damn it Xerath. Take this b*stard out already!

The sand gave way beneath the two dueling behemoths. The Titan's bulk allowed it to stabilize quickly, but the weakened Crab was slow.

Too slow.

A massive stone fist came plummeting down upon its chitin carapace, cracking the steel hard carapace like glass plate. Fumes of violet-crimson smoke evaporated from the beast as its time in real space started to come to an end.

It cried out in its alien tongue in agony as its legs squirmed, trying to gain grip and return to its fight.

Once more, the Titan's fist slammed into its carapace. A sharp chittering cry echoed across the desert. More fumes arose from the Crab's shattered innards.

A third and final blow silenced the Crab once and for all. Its carapace slowly started to decay into the ether, the fumes like the smoke of a burning city.

A triumphant cry came from the Titan as it reared to the heavens, exclaiming its joy in killing the alien beast.

* * *

"Azel." Xerath returned to the material plane.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Brace yourself."

* * *

An intense and blinding lance of pure lightning pierced its way across the battlefield, the recoil almost knocking down Azel and the Colonel's men.

The deafening super sonic blast echoed throughout Uebel like the tolling of bells.

It struck the Titan's torso, the immense force of the strike staggering its form and almost toppling it. The blazing light penetrated its stone hide, the intense heat reducing the rock and earth to slag and molten sand. The light then ripped through its torso and out the other side in a majestic spray of magnetized sand and stone.

**YOUR TERROR ENDS HERE AND NOW, MONSTROSITY!**

Xerath detonated the circuit.

* * *

A low boom and white burst of light came from the ritual location.

Within a mere second, crimson light flooded the horizon and the echoing supersonic blast caused sand to dance from the monstrous detonation.

The shockwave scattered men like leaves in a hurricane, their innards pulped and their bones crushed.

The Titan's eye flickered briefly before the aura dissipated once and for all. Its conscience no longer there, its body began to fall apart. Right onto the Horde's advancing infantry.

Boulders crushed entire companies as the Titan fragmented, the impacts of them causing the Earth to quake in outrage for its dying lord.

"You son of a b*tch, you did it! XERATH DID IT! HAHA! WE'VE WON! **WE'VE WON!**" Malzahar roared out, raising his fists into the air triumphantly. His face was full of joy. Behind him, the Uebel Guard roared the same, their city saved against nigh-impossible odds.

Himos had been Hell. This was just a mere battle after all. It was all going to be fine.

Until those annoying bureaucrats in the Institute know what happened here.

They were going to find out.

And he had done a whole lot of cr*p that would have sent anyone else to an eternity in prison.

He was going to be talked at into the ground itself by the High Summoners.

Sh*t.

* * *

Xerath hushed the pyre beneath him, his body returning to its normal parameters.

The Chains tightened themselves, his power weakening slightly.

He felt weaker, yet, at ease.

The Horde had been stopped at last. Although it lasted mere hours, the destruction both sides had wrought on each other was significant.

The initial artillery barrages had annihilated entire blocks of the city before he had removed them from this world. Uebel would never be able to recover fully from the arcane ordnance that had irradiated its lands.

At least it was done, the horizon still stained crimson from the blood circuit's detonation. He glanced over to Azel, her eyes transfixed on the two sunsets. She had never known that such a destructive force could even exist. She had heard of Xerath's power from stories, but to witness it herself was another thing entirely.

"Y-You did that?" She asked, her voice trembling in fear of such power.

"They had the oil. I had the match. I need not use just my own power to bring down my enemies. That is what separates good Magi from the great ones."

"So the beam you fired was the match."

"Well, yes and no. I used the beam to get the Titan-"

"Titan?"

"The big Golem rock thing."

"Ah."

"As I was saying, I used the force from the beam to stagger the Titan and get it in a position to fall over onto the Horde. I then proceeded to detonate the ritual blood circuit, a type of magic conduit notorious for its instability, causing the second sun you see. As the magic stopped flowing to Titan, it stopped working and it fell apart. Killing two birds with one stone, if you will."

"Lord Xerath, your intelligence is truly incredible."

"I appreciate the compliment, but we have other matters to attend to, such as how to remove the arcane radiation from the Horde's ordnance."

'Mage Xerath, you do not need to worry," Pasol spoke out "we can handle this from here."

"But this sort of thing takes an immense amount of time to remove. With my intellect, I should be able to find out ways to rid the radiation."

"The Institute of War has probably seen the second sun by now. They will be sending forces to find out what the damn hell has been going on here. They have tools to remove the radiation. Should be here in a day or so. Besides, you were supposed to be enrolled at the League of Legends. Better not keep them waiting for too long." Pasol's small smile seemed larger from the crimson fireball flame beaming out from the desert.

Xerath regained his composure. "I guess I have gotten caught up in local politics a bit too much. It was a pleasure working with you, Pasol."

"Don't worry sir, my staff and I will be cheering for you when you're on the Rift, won't we lads?"

Cheers came from the men behind Pasol.

"I thank you Colonel. But what is this 'Rift' you speak of?"

"The League's most popular battlefield. Full of bloodthirsty monsters, some really psycho guys and beautiful girls. The whole place is full of women I could only dream of."

"I know you love that Ashe, Colonel!" Cried one man in the background.

"You know I damn well love her, Eliphis! Anyway, Xerath, you best get going with Ezreal and that drunkard Sivir."

That was not very descriptive. These men only really cared for the League's entertainment value of the cool battles and the anatomy of its females. But at least there was one thing that he knew about the League of Legends.

It was waiting for him.


	18. Chapter 18: The Institute Awaits

Chapter 18: The Institute awaits.

The Half-track's engine had, once again, stopped.

Xerath heard the noise of Ezreal and Sivir both opening and slamming the track's doors, followed by curses and the clanging of metal as their boots rammed into the half-track's fuselage. Their weird prayers to the engine woke it up once more. Shuriman sand appeared not to be kind to any machine, even those with countermeasures.

"Huuuu… Wha… My Lord!"

"Good morning Azel, you slept well?"

"Good, I guess, until that banging noise started." Azel replied, her voice slurred from her sleep. "What was that anyway?"

"The engine failed its task,"

"I thought Ezreal had that fixed. It could just be the terrain maybe-"

"It failed its task over ten times already."

"Oh." Azel looked across to the still sleeping Malzahar. Malzahar had just came up to Ezreal and talked about how he 'wanted to get it over and done with', whatever that meant. She still disliked him from the whole stuff with her father and her nationality. Xerath had supported her then, something that one would not expect from an empire-killing sentient sapphire. That was really puzzling about him. She was nobody, so why should someone really care about her? Her father had managed to get her out of Nalepsis at the cost of her remaining family. She had done nothing to protect Uebel either, just communicating Xerath's thoughts to the Colonel and nothing else.

She felt weak.

She was weak.

She was always being protected.

There was nothing she could do on her own that would really help anyone.

That was just how it was for her.

* * *

"Only a couple of miles left till we get to the Institute grounds. From there, we'll go to the reception desk to drop you two off and get you signed in. Sivir, Malz and I need to do other things. I'll need to check up on other things as well so I won't see you guys for a few days. Hope you get acquainted with some good friends. Xerath, I suggest seeing Heimerdinger, he always could use a good academic to talk to. The guy's a freaking genius, even though this stupid bucket of bolts is rather faulty."

"Noted. Is there anything I should be expecting in terms of the League introduction process?"

"Not that much to be honest, there isn't that much to it. You are a special case where it is in the Institute's interests to keep you because where else could you go? For all they heard about you from Zilean's visions, you could have annihilated Shurima if you so wished. I know that won't happen now, but you are a magical glow-stick. I really doubt that people would not notice you and not consider you to be somewhat dangerous."

Xerath disagreed with being called a glow-stick. He had truly immense power, yet Ezreal would consider him a glow-stick?

A stick that could glow.

Such a pathetic name.

Ezreal continued. "You will have to battle with one of the older Champions in a show-match, but apart from that, there is little else you should be concerned about. I had to face off against Luxanna when she started, that was a pretty funny battle. Lux is pretty serious about stuff despite her looks. It can be fun to annoy her sometimes, but no one likes her angry. I've come across several times where she gets p*ssed and all of them have ended up with massive bills for destruction of property."

Ezreal continued to ramble on about Luxanna, oblivious to Xerath's lack of care and Sivir rolling her eyes at the constant rate of useless cr*p that poured out from his mouth like a river.

* * *

After half an hour of listening to Ezreal's annoying voice, he had finally shut up after an enforced bloody nose all thanks to Sivir's fist. The half-track had almost veered off into a ditch in the dense forest that surrounded the Institute, yet was saved thanks to Ezreal's swift maneuvers.

Azel felt relieved.

Finally that guy had shut up.

That and not crashing into a clump of oak trees.

"HALT! Who goes there?" A large gargoyle flew into view, threatening to stop the half-track with its unyielding body.

"Expedition Sarcophagus. We got the mage here ready for entry to the League."

"And who are the other two in the back?" The gargoyle's eyes panned across to the rear of the half-track, examining all three of its passengers.

"Oh come on Galio, can you not see that it is I, the Great Seer Malzahar?" Malzahar declared, his cloak unmoved from covering his eyes from the glaring sun while he slept.

"And the other?" Galio focused his attention on Azel, the simple girl feeling an intense resolve capable of halting even mountains.

"Local girl from the place we got Xerath from, her services were required during our stay and now a close follower of him."

"You know that I dislike potential threats, Ezreal." Galio's brow furrowed at this unannounced newcomer.

Ezreal, knowing what would happen if Galio disapproved of Azel, responded with his own brow furrowing as well.

"But my sight sees none from her. You may pass." The gargoyle relaxed itself, allowing the vehicle to pass.

Ezreal breathed a sigh of relief. They had Galio's approval. Galio's approval meant that the League had let them in. The gargoyle's judgment was impeccable, even sharper than that of a bloodhound's sense of smell.

"Thanks Galio."

"May want to look at your nose there, Explorer."

Ezreal put his free hand over his nose and found drops of blood.

Pointing his thumb over to Sivir, Galio stifled a laugh.

"Perhaps you should start talking less, Ezreal. You know how you can spout all sorts of nonsense from that thing." He replied in his deep and wizened voice.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

* * *

The Institute was a massive place.

Its immense spires almost touched the heavens themselves, and the grounds covered even beyond the horizon.

Truly impressive, Xerath thought.

Originally designed to separate the two city-states of Demacia and Noxus, the Institute had done its job and more with taking in monsters that none wished in their respective countries. It served as a medium for all diplomacy between the nations so as to provide neutral and secure ground, denying most efforts of sabotage and bribery within its borders. The Rune Wars had caused massive schisms in the physical, arcane as well as social structure of the world. Its secondary mission was to provide action and compensation to all civilizations that had been affected by them.

Which was almost the entirety of Runeterra.

A massive job was required of them.

So they had an equally large territory to do it.

Institute authority was nigh absolute, on par with the ruler of a nation.

Yet humans ran it, those magicians known as Summoners, were the commoners, a very peculiar case considering the prestige of being just a mage was significant enough to award high-ranking positions to them.

Yet here, Summoners were the middle class and the most common sentient populace.

Other men, mutants and outcasts, were uncommon and did the work unsuited for their Summoners. Although a harsh existence, it was better than dealing with unforgiving nature of human society in their minds.

And then there were Minions, Automata with relatively simple existences.

To fight on the battlegrounds as well as form frontlines should a significant power get involved. Although they were as strong as a standard human soldier, they had such number and could be salvaged within minutes of their deaths that sheer numbers would overwhelm their foes.

The half-track slowed to a stop outside a large complex, its heavy oaken doors capable of holding even the force of tempests.

"EEEEEEZZZZIIIEEEE!" An incredibly feminine voice cried out in excitement.

A young blond girl was running towards the half-track, one of her arms waving with a warm smile all over her face.

"Lux! Haha! It's so good to see you." Ezreal shifted in a brief flash, his body reappearing beside the girl and his arms out wide to embrace her.

The two wrapped their arms around each other, Ezreal twirling Lux's smaller form around in joy.

"So the crystal guy over there is the new champ? Looks like he'll be an interesting one."

"Yeah, we had a couple of things we had to attend to on our way out of Shurima. But now that's all done, you want to have dinner later maybe?"

"Sounds lovely!" Lux turned over towards Malzahar's lazy form. "Hello there Malzy, how've you been?"

"I've just been through hell and my stamina just hasn't returned to me. I've known better times."

Lux moved her sight over to the woman in the front of the 'track.

"Hello, Sivir." Lux's voice grew deeper with malice.

"Oh hey there, rainbow-girl." Sivir responded with just as much hate as Lux had.

Lux had never enjoyed sell-swords, especially when they would tread on the ideas of justice and honor that all Demacians believed in. Sivir was all that and more, her very essence stank of greed and bloodshed.

Sivir despised dogma in all forms. To her, humans only spoke lies and half-truths. Yet this pathetic b*tch before her had such a strong belief in the Demacian creed of those alien values of 'trust' and 'honor' that she would actually lay down her very life?

Stupid girl.

Lux swayed her view back to the rear of the vehicle, finding a small girl trying to hide behind the crystal mage.

"It's OK dear, you can show your face."

Azel cautiously withdrew from behind Xerath, showing herself to this 'Lux' girl.

"You guys want to sign in at the reception desk right through there." Lux nodded behind her, pointing towards the heavy doors.

"I thank you for the information, Lux…?"

"Luxanna Crownguard, but my friends call me Lux."

"I am Xerath, the Magus Ascendant."

"I welcome you, Xerath. May want to remove the title though, its kind of… awkward to say."

"Just Xerath then. Ezreal has told me quite a bit about you during our journey."

"How long did he talk for?"

"Half an hour."

"So who stopped him?"

"Sivir punched him in the nose."

"I see. One sec."

Lux suddenly and swiftly ran towards Azel.

"D'AAAAAAAWWWW! SHE'S SO CUTE! Xerath, can I keep her? PLEEEEEEEEEAAASSSEEE?"

Lux had Azel locked in her arms as she proceeded to rub herself on the girl. Patting Azel's head, Lux felt completely at ease, her face completely relaxed.

Azel on the other hand, was desperately trying to get Lux off her to no avail. Several years as a military officer had granted Lux the strength to hold onto a horse in full gallop, nothing compared to holding onto a struggling girl.

"She is to be my assistant, so I doubt that I can spare her for your… enjoyment."

"Pleeeeeeaaaaaasseee?" Lux was trying her hardest to get Azel, even if only once in a blue moon.

"I… will consider it."

Lux's smile stretched across her entire face, all the while Azel had just become a dead women walking. Like hell would she be able to stand against another one of Lux's assault.

"I'll leave you two to sign in at the reception, the rest of us have some other things to do."

"OH YES! Xerath!" Lux had just remembered something important.

"What is it?"

"There's going to be an inquiry into the situation in Uebel and the region of Shurima sometime tomorrow. The High Summoners will want to talk with you on this since you were there first hand. In the meantime, you just check out your quarters and settle down. Check out the canteen if you want as well."

"Thank you for telling me. I will be there."

Xerath and Azel opened the heavy doors, entering the League of Legends.


	19. Chapter 19: The dead laid to rest

Chapter 19: The dead laid to rest.

Xerath's dormitory was large, easily spanning a ballroom hall.

It was mostly plain concrete, with magic nullification elements to reduce any arcane assault on them. It was also reducing magical interference from the outside as well.

Not surprising.

His grasp on his power was still infantile.

He had so much room to improve his magical flow.

Having no room for practical experimentation during his incarceration had left him with very little time to produce more complex induction patterns. Perhaps this room would grant him the experimentation he required.

In a cubicle on the far side of the dormitory lay his room, complete with a large bookcase and a reasonably large bed.

Glancing through the books, there were subjects on complex arcane transference circuits and the effects of entropic magic on non-organic materials.

Searching further through the bookcase, he found something.

"Azel, this may be of use for you." Xerath said, handing back a brightly colored book to her.

Azel read the cover.

'The commoner friendly guide to magical terms: A layman's guide to whatever your brainy mage is saying.'

Azel seemed to disapprove of her new present. Xerath laughed for a moment in his autonomous voice before he returned to his composure.

His bed was generic. He had long since lost any ideas of what comfort actually was.

It would, however, be more comfortable than that stone tomb he had been confined to. It would be worth a shot to try out.

If Azel was not reveling in the feeling of a good bed.

Looking around, Xerath could not see a room for Azel. But that was to be expected since she was an unexpected guest.

Perhaps he could get another bed for her in the dormitory.

It should be possible considering how I had declared her as my secretary. That or she would have to live with the Summoners in their own compound.

Suddenly there was a flashing light from a small trinket-like device near his bed.

Touching it briefly, an image of a Summoner with their characteristic purple robes appeared before him.

"Mage Xerath, your presence is required for the Uebel inquiry."

"I will be there. Might I ask if my secretary Azel needs to accompany me?"

"No. There are not more empty places available for her. We may, however, grant her video access to the inquiry if she wishes."

Xerath looked back to Azel, her nod saying all that he needed.

"Yes, video access would be useful to her."

"Very well then, I will leave you for now."

"Might I ask for your name? We may meet once again so it would be useful to know it."

"Summoner Izulo Jun. You may call me Jun if you so wish."

"I thank you, Jun."

With that, the blue hologram faded.

"If I may Azel, I must get ready."

"Yes, my Lord."

* * *

The inquiry was going slow.

It had taken a long time to finally discern the actual events as information was pouring in from the response force that the Institute had sent.

Half of the audience was obviously tired, as they all knew how boring and slow an inquiry by the Institute could be, if not all inquiries could be.

Among the crowd, the representative champions of each major region had also gathered, such as the imposing Jericho Swain and the illustrious Jarvan the Fourth who was flanked by Luxanna and her brother or comrade, Xerath was unsure whether Crownguard was a title or a surname, Garen.

But the opening information was coming to a close and witnesses were starting to be called to testify their experiences.

Both Ezreal and Sivir had been called forward, their combined knowledge was disappointingly underwhelming as most of the information had already been disclosed to the audience. Their tales from Nalepsis did introduce some discussion, but politics hushed the issue for now.

Politics was a weird and alien thing, thought Xerath. In any real circumstance, either of the two major states of Demacia and Noxus should have called out on the issue, bringing to light the horror of Belhorashurian cruelty to minority groups. But as both states had done similar wrongdoings to minorities in the past, they both kept silent as not to grant the other side an advantage. Jarvan and Lux were both visibly moved by this, but their silence was held. Garen furrowed his brow slightly at the events, while Swain completely held his composure throughout the Nalepsian detour.

The inquiry returned to the more pressing matter of Uebel, with Malzahar granting a more in depth description of the battle for Uebel and the presence of a Titan-class Golem in addition to Hellhounds and other arcane beasts.

The Titan-class gave cause for concern.

A Titan in war was a nigh-unstoppable thing, especially when it was a Golem.

Golems had significant ties with earthen magic, so they could draw up matter into their being to replenish themselves, provided they gained enough energy to sustain it.

A Titan had such large energy upkeep that the additional energies required for sustenance were relatively low, allowing the Titan to tower with such immense and unyielding bulk that very few spells could even stagger the beast. It made a Titan-class Golem one of the most dangerous arcane entities that man had ever employed to their arsenal.

When Malzahar was dismissed, Xerath added his own knowledge.

"During my time in dismantling the Titan, I noticed the presence of _blood_ in its energy transference matrix. I, at the time, assumed that it was an Enriched Blood Circuit. After detonating the energy transference matrix, I realized that my assumption was correct."

This sent the audience into uproar at this.

Enriched Blood Circuits were outlawed in every nation apart from Zaun, who had found more efficient and cheaper ways to produce similar transference quality, although the term 'quality' was used so much in Zaunic advertisement that it had become too dull for the conditioned Zaunites.

That very paragraph determined the fate of Shurima.

A single minute had just decided the fate of a nation.

For the better, no one could say, but fate it was.

The rest of the inquiry felt like an age.

He may have endured two and a half thousand years in a tomb, but that was shortened by his wandering mind and thoughts.

The constant bickering of politics was draining him of energy, even despite his immense reservoir from the Magus Catenas.

Politics was perhaps one of the most boring activities he had ever experienced.

Thankfully the inquiry was coming to its end.

* * *

As everyone departed, the one known as Prince Jarvan the Fourth came up to him.

"Your information has just changed this very world for the better, Mage Xerath. I hear from Lux that you had a 'guest' who was directly involved in Nalepsis?"

"Indeed, my Prince. My guest, Azel, is, or perhaps was, the daughter of the cult that foresaw my return. I had very little time spent in Nalepsis, so I only heard about her dilemma from Ezreal. Even I can understand the hardships she has just faced."

"You are a good man, Xerath. Your efforts have allowed us, the Demacian People, to do what we do best, liberating those held by the clutch of tyrants and to lead Valoran into a new age of prosperity and peace."

Peace?

Pathetic.

I saw you simply remain still while the cruelty of Nalepsian society was exposed.

No action, just a simple fool struggling to make words in his mouth.

You jumped at the chance when the Blood circuit was described, as it was hard evidence.

If you truly liberated those under a tyrant's hand, then you should have done it long ago before this calamity could ever happen.

But perhaps I am being too harsh.

I know too little of politics to say much on the matter.

Still, this man's pride in his country does piss me off to some extent.

"I thank you, Prince Jarvan. I must prepare for my next appointment for the League introduction match. If you will excuse me."

"Oh yeah, you'll have that one versus that Annie kid. May want to look her up before you meet her, she has always been a terror on the Rift. Don't let her small form fool you, she can be really dangerous." Jarvan told him, emphasizing the last sentence significantly as if to suggest that this 'Annie' was a significant threat to everyone.

"Noted, I will take my leave now. This inquiry has sapped me of my strength."

"It does to most of us, my friend."

* * *

As Xerath returned to his dormitory, he was greeted by Azel's warm hug.

Her red eyes indicated that she had been crying. He had an idea of why she had.

His talon-like fingers wrapped themselves around her slowly, careful not to allow his sharp claws to scratch her flesh and clothes like some feral beast.

He slowly tightened his grasp on her, embracing her.

Comforting her.

It was done.

It was all done.

Nrazin could finally rest in peace.

* * *

Xerath entered the large arena where the show match was about to begin.

Replicas of ancient structures littered the arena, allowing more mobile champions to circumvent otherwise immovable objects and strike at key points using tactics and positioning to their advantage.

The ground was thick with ash and soot, making it seem as if a wildfire had committed the killing blow to the inhabitants.

Far off, he saw a beaming light come down in a similar fashion to the beam he had been transported here in.

That was most likely Annie.

Distance was about several hundred meters.

Setting up a location to survey this 'Annie' would be priority.

Best to move away from my starting location, lest she get a good idea of where I am.

Moving across the tough terrain was relatively easy, considering how his tethers levitated him a foot above the rubble littered ground.

After several minutes of movement, he scanned for any sign of this 'Annie' child.

Fifty meters.

But that was impo-

No

It could be possible.

I know nothing about her transportation methods.

She could have teleportation for all I know.

Xerath primed himself.

Energy surged inside him, ready to make battle.

Switching to scan the Infrared spectra, he found signs of her behind a thick concrete structure right beside him.

"Tibbers, do you sense that?" A small child-like voice called to something.

Xerath moved away from the structure, hoping to get distance from the fire-mage who had most likely already sniffed out his whereabouts.

Fire mages were notorious for having some of the most devastating spells in the elemental mage category. The ubiquitous fireball was known by most, if not all, of the world even if they had never even come in contact with a mage. They were common compared with the rest of the elemental mages, but this meant that their weaknesses were well known as a result. The rate of their ranged effectiveness dropped massively after thirty meters, often having to rely on massive channeled spells or slow moving projectiles at such range.

He had no such range disadvantage.

He could use this.

"Yeah, I see 'im Tibbers. GO GET HIM!"

The structure collapsed as a monstrous beast barreled through the concrete building.

A child's toy?

No.

The massive stitched bear bellowed forth flame at him, its interior incandescent with the firestorm that brewed inside it. Its wool exterior contained the fire surprisingly well, completely inert and uncaring of what stored within it. The stitching that held the beast together was on the brink of coming undone, yet it showed no sign of doing so. On top of the beast sat a little girl with violet hair, her childish grin almost disgusting as to the devastation she wrought.

But she had no other spells primed.

Was she so confident in her bear that it could defeat entire armies by itself?

Perhaps so.

But her arrogance would be her downfall.

Xerath had been prepared for her entrance.

His wards had managed to stop the burning firewall that emanated from the beast's entrance, allowing him to return with his own fire. A blinding burst of light bathed the beast, turning the air to plasma as the immense electrical current flowed through it. It broke down the monster's control mechanism, turning it into a ragdoll as it fell to the ground. As it fell, its size changed, morphing into a small teddy bear with two buttons for eyes and the stitching returned to a more stable state.

Annie fell hard on the ground, but quickly started to return to a battle stance.

Yet Xerath was faster, firing a magical projectile that enveloped Annie's body like a bundle of chains.

Annie staggered and fell back onto the hard, ash-covered ground, looking up to her aggressor.

"Attempt any hostile action and I will detonate the chains, causing your energies to temporarily siphon off your magic and causing arcane shock."

Annie just stared at Xerath dumbfounded. Those words were way too long for a kid to understand.

"Give me sweeties and I'll suwwender."

Xerath was shocked at this. Was this girl going to exploit her naturally cute form to get what she wanted?

Yeah, she probably would and has probably done so many times already.

"You promise?"

"I would pinkie swear, but I'm kind of tied up right now." Annie said, glancing down at the magical chains as she moved her shoulders around to emphasize her point.

Xerath agreed to her terms. A bit too anti-climactic for his liking, but it did its purpose.

At least he had won his first match and thus was granted the title of a Champion of the League of Legends.

Still anti-climactic though.


	20. Chapter 20: The small things

Chapter 20: The small things in this world.

Xerath, thanks to his academia and his new body being made of arcane crystals forged in ancient magic, had been designated as one of the Institute's foremost artifact investigators.

Although it was more that he was effectively immune to the organic-eviscerating energies that emerged from some of the artifacts that the Institute had gathered. Why equip a human with such immense volumes of negatron dampeners that each cost several million credits that would probably increase the chances of survival by twenty percent when you could just throw a big sentient crystal in there and be done with it?

However, due to some circumstances involving Xerath's aura destroying multiple artifacts (including the somewhat unfortunate removal of certain weather phenomena), the Institute had contracted that renowned yordle scientist, Heimerdinger, to develop a dampening robe for him.

Xerath had found the robe relatively comforting; at least granting some sanity from the nostalgia it brought him. The robe's design was akin to that of the Summoners, yet azure patterns ran like circuitry throughout its fiber.

In fact, these patterns were indeed circuitry, a way for Xerath's hindered senses to expand out to the world through the modified negatron robe. Several copper nodes protruded from the azure patterns to retain his perception through arcano-spectra means.

It also did what it was supposed to do well, blocking Xerath's excess magical emissions while not impeding his perception.

Xerath thought it was also pretty cool or, how he put it, agreeable.

It was even machine-washable.

* * *

The days and months passed along, with each day granting a new artifact for him to not destabilize or outright destroy.

That and the new additions the Institute had picked up through one-way or another.

Some of the most recent had been Jarvan's lapdog, or lap-dragon, Shyvana and the renowned Zaunic scientist Viktor.

As Xerath's work focused on academia, he often found himself working with the half-robot, the only thing to ever denote Viktor as ever being a Zaunite was his thick East Zaun accent. Others may have found the accent grating and irritating, but Xerath found some weird liking to it. It was straight and to the point, with little skirting around the subject like so many other champions did like a certain 'light mage'.

Viktor's dedication to science was absolute, even turning most of his body into a machine to show his fanaticism.

He reminded Xerath of his human self that passed away centuries ago, though his transformation had been more about his continued existence through a single window of opportunity. Meanwhile Viktor had his own free time to do this transformation of his with significantly reduced pressure.

And no collateral damage.

The past still hung on Xerath's mind, even after the two and a half millennia that had passed. He had indeed changed the world by a significant amount. His ascension had brought about arcane storms that wracked the Shuriman Empire for decades, bringing about the end of most settlements that had sprouted up around that time. The fracturing empire left it weak to all manner of barbarians and lesser civilizations, allowing a great diversity of cultures to emerge. The islands now known as the Shadow Isles had seized this opportunity to unite West Valoran under a single banner, with only the regions of Freljord, Piltover, Zaun and Noxus remaining unconquered. There were other inhospitable places such as the dense forests of Ionia and the barren wastes of Icathia that were too dangerous to justify major colonization efforts other than small outposts or research stations. When the Shadow Empire had been removed in some sort of coup d'état, the starting of Demacian civilization had sprouted from its ashes, an absolute authority with a purpose that came from on high.

As all cults say, Xerath laughed to himself.

"Xerath, vhat are you laughing at?"

Xerath returned from his thoughts back to the canteen where he had been invited.

Since he had no need of sustenance from his ascension, a canteen was the last place anyone should ever find him. But, on request from Heimerdinger, he had been brought here.

From the accent, it was obvious that Viktor had asked him the question.

"Do great minds not wander? Especially when we are in a place that lacks purpose for me."

"Yes, vell me and Heimerdinger here are talking about a research agreement."

"Funny, a Piltoverian and Zaunite actually making an agreement, a research one at that. What is this world coming to?"

A shrill voice interjected Xerath. "You know my thoughts on the sciences and politics, my friend. Science is a universal thing, no bounds of borders can stop the power of knowledge without serious action and even then the buffer only lasts for so long."

"_Then you must guard this well_. You know of my story, Heimerdinger, so you should know that I would have my doubts about a thing such as this, considering how the two most renowned inventors in Runeterra will be working together on a project. The attention this will gather is going to be immense. I know that whatever you will be working on will have a massive impact on the scientific community."

"That is vhy ve vant you to vork vith us, Xerath. Your knowledge and expertise will be incredibly… usevul."

That did not sound incredibly promising.

"I assume it is the job of the old and wise to protect the young and naïve. Tell me what you are planning then."

"Knowledge in electromagnetic induced acceleration is required for this, I suggest you research it. Ve vill be meeting again next veek here to set up a secure netvork to communicate the final research project to you. As soon as that is set up, the project vill begin."

"I see you have appropriate safeguards. Consider me a part of this then. If only because I know both of you will mess up in some way."

"Very well, we shall call this project EMIA!"

Heimerdinger loved his acronyms, adored them in fact. For every single operation he had ever gone on, he had set an acronym to its name and stuck stubbornly to it. He remembered all of the details provided the acronym remained in his mind.

Every yordle he knew of had some sort of psychological condition or complex. Tristana was a pyromaniac, her already large eyes would almost rip her face apart at every single explosion she delivered on the battlefield. Veigar would have massive tantrums whenever someone even made a hint of something being small. And Rumble...

Rumble was one of the most egotistical people he had ever known.

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT MY COUNTRY, YOU SL*TTY VIXEN!"

The three turned around to find the sound came from one of the small bar stands the canteen hall harbored. The hall itself was very large, made even larger by the lack of people from the approaching closing hours and the dulled lights. Around the bar stand, a small party still drank their rounds, composing of Ezreal, Lux and a few others.

From the distinctive feminine voice and that her chair had been upturned from her temper, it was clear to see that Lux had gotten angry. And drunk.

For Lux, those two things combined created one of the most deadly forces outside of the Rift.

Unpredictable stone melting Laser beams.

"It was only an observation, Luxxie. You really are one of those stereotypical Demacian girls with their 'my prince Charming can do everything. He is so strong and handsome' and all that bullsh*t." The seductress Ahri replied, unaware of what monstrosity she had just unleashed.

And she was only making it worse.

Lux was definitely drunk.

The several glass vials of imported lager that had been knocked onto the floor had confirmed that.

Sh*t.

"Well, I've finished my shift for tonight." A janitor declared behind the three academics, scurrying to get up the stairwell and get out of the danger zone.

Some of the others started to walk away from the two arguing women.

Ahri was either unfamiliar with Lux's rage or was too drunk to really think about how hard Lux had just screamed at her.

Most likely a combination of both.

Ahri had only been here for a few days longer than Viktor, who had joined three weeks ago. She was unprepared for the hell-fire that was Lux's anger.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU! YOU STUPID B*TCH!"

"You actually think you can hit me? You're drunk! I bet you couldn't even scorch my hair with your rainbow gun… thingy… beam."

Ahri was also drunk.

What sort of cruel joke is fate weaving?

Either way, I need to put a stop to this now.

"Lux, Ahri, that is enough!" Xerath cried, his words falling on deaf ears.

Xerath saw magic surge inside Lux.

This was bad.

Really bad.

I need to halt Lux now!

"**LUX THAT IS ENOUGH! STOP THIS MADNESS NOW!**"

Ahri could sense that Lux was conjuring a massive amount of energy.

She needed to move out of the way.

She knew she did.

She tried to sidestep Lux's firing arc with impeccable grace.

Instead, she clumsily fell over her chair backwards, falling to the ground harder than she imagined she would.

She felt kind of dizzy, her mind dulling the true pain that coursed inside her.

She saw the bright light forming in front of her, the blinding light almost welcoming her in its heat.

She stayed dumbstruck at the intense light that only grew before her.

It suddenly grew darker.

* * *

Lux bounced off the bar stand, her body bound by chains of cerulean lightning.

Xerath had managed to disrupt her channeling efforts, the Catenas siphoning off the magic so rapidly that it had knocked her unconscious for a moment.

The sudden change of light put the rest of the hall in respective darkness.

He was thankful that Lux had not managed to fire her signature laser blast. The canteen hall was a nice place. Having it devastated on his first visit was not something he wished.

Ahri was also safe, yet completely in awe at what had just happened.

"I assume you are fine?" a Summoner asked, "Lux has been known to be this violent, especially under alcohol influence."

"I'm fine Summoner, I was perfectly fine. Until my stool got in the way. That hurt a bit."

"Summoner? Do not judge someone just by their cape, especially when his eyes illuminate darkness."

"What…" Ahri replied blanky. She was too drunk to understand the man's words and even if she weren't drunk she still would not understand his manner.

Nor care for that matter.

"So who are you then?"

"I am called Xerath, my dear. I suggest you learn it."

"You're that crystal glow-orb Ez was talking about? Pictured you larger."

"Nor did I picture you intoxicated on our first proper introduction."

"Can I talk back? If I can with some form of coherency, then I'm not drunk enough."

"So you are fine to go back to your room? If you are, I must deal with Lux."

"I'm up for you beating Lux if you're going down that path. I guess I'll stick around and watch your dealings anyway."

Weird girl, but he had known similar people in his human times. Yet this one would definitely be notable.

"Ezreal, help me. I need you to get Lux back to her room in the Demacian dormitories. Come find me when you're done, I can then release her bindings remotely. You were also not kidding back then, I see."

"Told ya Xerath, Lux is REALLY scary when she's mad. And drunk."

"Oh yes, who in the SEVEN HELLS ALLOWED LUX TO DRINK ANYTHING STRONGER THAN P*SSWATER? Or have your memories too become corrupted on that foul microbial excrement?"

"But it's nice, for the most part. Especially Ionian sake. I like sake." Ahri interrupted hyper-actively. The fox-girl was sitting on a nearby table, playfully swinging her legs back and forth with her nine snow-white tails following suit.

"That changes not its poisonous traits nor origins. A poison is a poison, even if it has remedial effects." Xerath knew that Ahri was going to be annoying. People like her would always be in these times.

* * *

Ezreal was carrying Lux off to her room now and the canteen was several minutes away from closing.

"Hey Xerath, I'm still a bit drunk. Mind escorting me to my room?"

"I do believe you formed two coherent sentences there."

"Bit drunk still. You 'scort me to wruum, pwease?" Ahri quickly replied, not missing a heartbeat.

Xerath wanted to roll his eyes, yet such luxuries had been robbed from him.

"Heimerdinger, Viktor. It was a pleasure to have conversation with you, but I must take my leave to escort this girl-"

"Technically a woman." Ahri interrupted him yet again.

"Does not matter, still a girl in my eyes. As I was saying, escorting this girl back to her room because she is too 'intoxicated' to even walk. Ahri, come."

"Coming!" Ahri said delightfully.

Xerath walked towards the exit in the heavy boots he had been given, an additional gift from Heimerdinger to assure that the meeting would have some positive outcome.

Ahri cheerfully followed in his footsteps, a large, innocent smile covering her face.

How the hell could this girl do things like this when she could otherwise have been sent to the apothecary for several weeks?

* * *

They were approaching the Ionian dormitories now.

Xerath had thought that Ahri would be put in the Unaffiliated dormitories from her uncaring attitude when it came to Ionian affairs. He knew about her dreams of retaining a human body, meaning that she needed human 'souls' to sustain her rather beautiful form. And beauty was something did not say lightly either.

She had no deformities on her skin, being uniformly white and healthy. Her soft face gleamed out, garnered by seamless long dark black hair and those soft pointed fox ears. Her bodily curves were appealing and her breasts were exceptional, being blessed with size and yet they were not overly massive, enough to catch the eyes of wandering men and small enough to remain appealing for more mature audiences. Her tails were welcomingly exotic, their soft whiteness capable of lulling lesser men from their duties.

But he knew little on how to describe women. They were an alien species, on par with whatever monstrosity Malzahar had pulled into reality from those hell-gates during Uebel's defense. He knew that she was a very beautiful creature, yet he had no way to describe and define it in the correct manner. He had never needed it due to his lack of interest in the matter.

And yet here he was trying to describe it.

What a fool he was.

Describing beauty, ha.

"Hey Xerath?" Ahri's tone had changed significantly since they had exited the main compound.

Can she read minds or something? I may know about her combat abilities, but who knows with the way she said it.

"Hmm?" Xerath turned his head behind him slightly as to glance at her.

She wore a slightly more somber look on her face.

"You know back there in the canteen."

"My memory is not corrupted by alcohol, so yes I do know."

Ahri slightly furrowed her brow in annoyance. Was she being serious now? Another face of hers perhaps?

"Well…" Ahri paused for a moment.

Was she trying to get words? This was Ahri, a girl notorious for her incredibly sharp wit, and she was getting stuck on words? Maybe. Just maybe she was. It could be something else, but that is my best suspicion.

"Why did you stop Lux from doing her magic? I mean, it didn't and wouldn't have affected you anyway since you're a crystal ball and stuff. So why help?"

This was an honest question. This was actually an honest question coming from her.

"Was I in the room? Could ignoring Lux's anger and just back away stop her from creating massive holes in the walls with her laser? Were you so dumbstruck like a deer to watch as your end came to do nothing? What would have happened if Lux had her laser actually gone off? I know that there would have been too many things for me to think about should I just ignore the incident."

"D…" Ahri once again stumbled for words. "Did you think about what would happen to me? Would you be... worried about me?"

Xerath needed to stop and think for a moment.

In the end, it came down to him and her.

Damnable woman.

"I am not benevolent enough to grant every single human with a problem a solution, but I am more than willing to stop destructive acts should I be required to do so. That is all I need to say."

Ahri lowered her head slightly just enough to hide her eyes.

Several minutes later, the two arrived at the Ionian dormitory.

"I believe this is the place. Goodnight then, Ahri."

"Yeah, goodnight I guess. Not sure if crystal balls sleep though."

As Ahri slipped inside and shut the door, he heard a soft voice.

The faintest of voices, but Xerath could hear it.

"Thank you."

So there is more to the fox than meets the eye?

A notable person indeed.

Perhaps as sharp and witty as Tabia.

Tabia…


	21. Chapter 21: Must plans always fail?

Chapter 21: Must plans always fail?

It was gone, all gone.

The humanoid figure continued walking through the ruined structure, the anger welling up inside him like the very fires of hell itself.

All of his possessions were ruined!

All of the time he had spent in his laboratory, all for naught! Fate was never on his side. Why him? Why did this have to happen to him? His whole life had been some joke to another person, as if he had never mattered at all. I thought I had changed that.

Burning pieces of paper wafted in the morning Zaun wind, proclaiming their fallen master's loss.

Bandits would come here, seeking valuable information to sell to the highest bidder.

"Duratskiy Zadnitzky!" The figure swore, cursing the man responsible for this.

"Boss Viktor, we have the remaining research equipment you requested. What are your orders now, commandante?" The armored hulk of a guard, Grigovic, asked.

"I still require a few more pieces of equipment from deep vithin the lab. Sergeant, I vant your squad on me. There may be, uninvited guests."

"Yes sir! Come then, brothers, let us go forth!" The guard roared as four other grizzled veterans formed up behind him with their bolt-action rifles, advancing into the catacombs of the laboratory. Viktor followed behind them, staff in hand and his death-ray primed and ready.

* * *

A large hall lay before them, the sodium lamps casting the scorched concrete in a dirty yellow glow.

"Here ve are, room 046. Give me some time while I secure the equipment." Viktor whispered to avoid bouncing his voice across the walls.

Suddenly, there was a clink of metal rolling down stairs.

"Sh*t! Quick! Get into defensive positions. Give the Boss time to get the equipment."

"Sergeant, I vant to make as little noise as possible. Try to let them pass by. Failing that, safety off, kill on sight."

"Copy that. You heard him, set up behind that rubble."

As the noise drew closer, the five guards set themselves up, crouching behind several slabs of concrete that had fallen from the fires that had raged inside the structure when the intruder had detonated the arcane reactor.

Viktor stepped inside the small room, finding the imposing steel vault he had wanted. Cautiously closing the heavy door behind him, he began the unlocking process. A quick whir of mechanisms echoed quietly as his third hand reformed itself to fit the pentagram lock. Viktor felt information surge into his mind as he connected with the computer, an incredibly disgusting feeling from the unmediated data. He entered the key codes for the safe, the confirmation codes declaring his success. Sliding his Hex-core staff into the secondary slot, he entered the final key codes.

"You three!" A loud voice cried from up the stairwell. "Get down there and see what you can find! I want everything here, even if they are just a bunch of science papers."

"Yes sir!" A chorus replied.

The sound of footsteps drawed nearer with each passing second.

A small click of gunmetal resounded up the stairs.

"You know, some of this stuff is actually pretty clever." One voice declared.

"Like what? The man decided to make a hex-tech toaster." A second responded.

"When you are hungry, why not make toast? Seriously. Its even cooler when you put the label Hex-tech on it anyway." A third voice replied.

Sergeant Gikovic slid his thumb over the safety lock on his rifle.

The body armor his soldiers wore could easily stop most civilian ammunition if it came down to a firefight. Their experience during the Ionian conflict had bestowed them significant honors from their tactics and confirmed kills, with even the stealthy Kinkou having fallen to their ambushes. No way these common thieves could even match up to veterans of those wars.

The problem would be the Boss and his contraptions making a noise. Knowing most of the Boss's inventions, they often made big ones.

Nothing would stop them from completing their task.

An entire Ionian regiment had been unable to take his squad out.

Dying to a bunch of scavengers would make for a poor death.

The echoing clunk of locks echoed out from room 046.

Sh*t.

"You hear that?"

"Someone's 'ere! Get everyone, that Viktor guy may still be around. Ohohoho, this is going to be good!"

At least we have good bait.

* * *

The lock had disengaged, the vault motors whirring slowly. With yet another clank of gears, the heavy door groaned into motion. Inside, a row of computer banks whirred onwards.

His Archives.

Viktor set to work, plugging his Hex-Core staff into the mainframe.

I must rebuild, again.

With sorrow, he began the download and following termination program to wipe the entire Archives clean.

"HEY F**KHEAD! WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! GET OUT HERE AND MAKE YOUR DEATH QUICK YOU SORRY SH*T!"

Intruders.

Oh joy.

* * *

A horde was slamming on the door to the room 046.

Ten to fifteen armed men.

All clumped up.

Ha.

This was going to be easy.

Signaling to his squad the plan, Grigovic prepped a grenade. To his left, Dmitry had also taken one of his out.

Two quiet clinks of the pins being removed, the grenades primed.

One. None had heard them.

Two. Grigovic prepped himself to throw.

Three. Let fly.

* * *

Viktor could hear two echoing blasts through the vault door, swiftly followed by the legato cracks of disciplined rifle-fire.

His download was almost complete, just a few more seconds.

Paying almost triple the price for a more connective wire was now a worthy investment.

With a click and an electronic ping, the download had finished.

The termination program was now running its course.

Good.

The cacophony outside had stopped as well.

Retrieving his staff from the socket, Viktor opened the vault doors.

Treading over cracked bone and bloody limbs, he moved onwards, not caring for the carnage the grenades had wrought.

Nor did he look upon the concrete walls, painted with the grey matter and blood of the thieves.

"Sergeant! Come! Our vork here is done."

"Yes sir! Any ideas what we should do with the bodies?"

The third robotic hand that arched over Viktor's shoulder hummed in response.

"Yes sir." Grigovic replied, understanding what the Boss was planning.

The five soldiers hurried up the stairs. Viktor slowly ascended the stairs, turning his body around after moving several meters.

Accursed fire poured forth from his hand, turning the hall into a seething furnace of annihilating energies. The pulsing blast reduced bone and tissue to its base elements, water bubbling and carbon crackling.

Viktor turned his back on the inferno, going forth to seek a new laboratory.

The bastard would pay heavily for this.

* * *

This 'Defender of Tomorrow' person was pathetic.

A simple and ignorant fool.

Heimerdinger's introduction had proved that much. The man's ideas of freedom and justice were so simple it hurt. Everything about him was emotionally or egotistically driven, making him incredibly predictable and obvious.

The news of Viktor's destroyed lab had impacted the research significantly, but at least some of the research had been salvaged.

Heimerdinger himself had orchestrated some background deals to loan some mana crystals to Viktor, the city of Zaun having such high interest in him that most of his 'normal' deals were researched heavily which often lead to his research being heavily plagiarized. Somehow, this Jayce person had caught wind of the deal and, with righteous fervor, assaulted the laboratory. He could not just stop at retrieving the crystals either. The man's xenophobia had lead him to detonating the laboratory power source, reducing most of it to a smoking ruin.

But there were more consequences than just Viktor having to find a new lab.

This Jayce had dealt a massive blow that had reignited the embers of a cold war between the two nations of Zaun and Piltover. More and more firefights had been rumored, but both nations had hushed such speculation. The rivalry between the two cities was ridiculous, allowing radical anti-Zaun political parties to spawn in Piltover (there were also radical parties in Zaun, but they had always been there mainly due to business interests).

But Heimerdinger was slightly different.

He was a good yordle, being incredibly hard to sway from his calm demeanor and disrupt his natural swagger. He could do and say things that few others would dare and get away with it, especially among females who adored his small stature.

Heimerdinger had taken a surprising likening to the robotic inventor, mostly on the grounds of their progress into the sciences. Thanks to both of their cooperation, the research had been going on smoothly and quickly.

Achieving artificial acceleration of arcane energy was incredibly hard, so hard that no one had managed to do so.

Their combined academia, however, had granted them a formula confirming the potential for interaction.

It was just a matter of establishing how could one accelerate something that does not apply to most physical laws.

Sure one could accelerate magic, but that was done through one's natural connection with magic, something that scientists and magicians alike could not describe well enough to completely agree on a single definitive answer. Actual physical interaction with the arcane realm was almost impossible, for the most part.

This theory said differently.

It was supposed to be possible, but how could it be possible?

Heimerdinger was set on the theory with Viktor on the experimentation, leaving himself time to work on the establishing the correct magic to use.

Months had passed since the agreement and the research had been going well, but we are still stumped on how.

Damn that Jayce.

* * *

Xerath walked along the path towards the Summoning platform, still deep in thought on the research.

Someone wanted him to take part in a match, surprisingly.

Most Summoners considered him unworthy of being summoned because of his nature while there were more… welcoming choices.

He brought power to the field, massive amounts in fact. But other champions were more appealing and mobile.

They could suddenly appear behind someone and annihilate the unfortunate champion.

Unless the unfortunate had something ridiculous such as mobility of their own.

All the while, he had artillery bombardments that could rend entire armies asunder.

And yet they preferred heroic archers?

That made no sense to him.

* * *

The match began.

He was facing off against Ahri, not surprisingly.

Many Summoners adored her, but that was a typical human reaction. It often went far more than just adoration, with Ahri often having to reject so many offers that she had very little time to spend with her friends.

Xerath had often seen her with friends, considering how she had picked up with one of the larger groups, which included those such as Caitlyn and Ezreal. Yet she always seemed slightly bored with the mundane chatter her friends talked about, often preferring to form jokes that wrought havoc on their sides. Even then, she seemed unsatisfied somehow.

On the Rift, she was a powerful mage. Her raw power was lacking compared to Arch-mages, yet she often came through with her exceptional reactions and agility.

She was predictably unpredictable with her options of both offence and defense.

I may have trouble defeating her.

Xerath almost had his ultimate.

Ultimate? HE WAS THE ULTIMATE BEING!

Why would one constrict their power in such a weird form of "Oh look, you killed one beast. You can now unleash your greatest power available to you."

It was beyond him.

But he knew that his ultimate signaled another portion of him becoming available.

That meant he could terminate Ahri.

However, the defining defense and energy values the Summoners had placed on him meant he could well die if one of her teammates showed up or she got the drop on him.

But he had a plan, which hopefully his 'jungler' would go along with.

* * *

Ahri had the upper hand.

As soon as she got her ultimate, crystal-pylon-guy would be dead. That was the plan her Summoner had described in immaculate detail.

Idiot.

This is going to go poorly. The Summoner had never considered that Xerath would also be able to unleash his own payload, which was far superior in terms of raw power. She had been at his mercy too many times to say that he was weak.

Underrated if anything.

But still, 'The Summoner is always right', the instructor had said when she had first entered the league.

Fine, this idiot is going to get me killed. Then he will just rage like the pathetic asshole he is.

One minute later, the ultimate limiters had disengaged.

Ready to take the weakened Xerath down, Ahri dashed forward on a burst of hot arcane flame.

"MAOKAI! NOW!"

Ahri spun around, finding the monstrous treant that was rampaging out from a large brush.

Suddenly morphing into a wave of earthen magic, the monster was upon her.

The immense surge in the vitalizing magic caused immense roots to wrap around Ahri's form. Maokai struck out at Ahri, who just managed to squirrel away from the monstrous shield-arm it wore. The shockwave sent splinters of bark and branches glancing across Ahri's body, small drops of blood glistening on her arms and legs.

A blast of foxfire broke fast against Xerath's wards like a wave against a boulder. Generating a Mage Chain, he scored a direct hit against Ahri, the cyclic projectile deforming into a set of arcane chains that impacted hard into her.

He ascended into his enlightened form and began channeling a ball of lightning.

Ahri saw the blast coming. Knowing about the spell he had just cast on her, getting hit again would mean serious consequences.

She worked quickly to rid herself of the roots and once again surged across the battlefield, narrowly dodging the energy pulse.

Another aerial blast came right down on where she had landed, her senses rent asunder as her magic was ripped from her body. The League's damage control systems had allowed her form to survive the blast, but when her 'health' reached zero she would be transported back to her base after a long delay, which often began with a massive blast of pain flooding her body.

Another aerial blast was coming down from the heavens. The heavens seemed to open up as the electric force cracked and fractured the ground where she had just been. The lightning shockwave sparked a mere foot from her.

Too close for comfort. She could withstand only one more blast before the termination process would begin. As she landed, she let fly her spirit orb directly at Xerath. She may heal just enough to withstand his final blast.

Xerath's rooted form could not dodge the spirit orb flying toward him. He could feel it rend through his form, the swirling ball working like a saw blade on his magic. He grimaced in pain as it flew through his physical form, then once again as the orb flew back to its sender through him. This was his last chance to get her as she retrieved her orb. His ascension would end shortly, so his superior range would end and so too would his chance at getting the bounty. I need to make this count.

Ahri felt the calming sensation of stolen essence flow into her. Every champion gave off a slightly different flavor of essence, some of them being more delicious than others. Xerath's wasn't exactly great, but it was pleasantly strong and defining.

But there are more pressing matters.

Like the final blast about to bombard her.

The cacophonous blast ripped through the earth, the lightning pyre visible across the entire battlefield. Ahri had just managed to dash out of the way, but she was slow.

The shockwave wracked her legs, causing her to howl out in pain. But she had gotten out of Xerath's range.

Ha. Hahaha. Hehehmm…

Tabia.

Tabia?

What was that?

Who was that?

A shrill voice was crying out through the air.

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeee!"

Something heavy landed on her head.

Her head smacked against the ground.

Damn, she thought in her final moments, I forgot about the Treant's little sapling.

* * *

Ahri had been slain, but there was no real point saying that when she would be coming back to life in a minute.

His form descended back to his more mobile form.

Maokai's aim had been impressive.

"Nice aim, Maokai."

"Compliments from a mage such as yourself are not welcome." The deep voice replied.

A cold being, unlike Mother Nature. But could it be that this is what happens when magic runs uncontrolled? Perhaps he should learn from this.

He was just informed that Ahri's Summoner had lost his temper.

Funny man.

Suddenly he heard a shout from above.

It was Pantheon.

High up in the sky itself.

Surrounded by dozens upon dozens of spears.

All falling towards him and Maokai.

Sh**********-

**"THE CODEX RAKKOR CALLS THIS MANEUVER STEEL RAIN!" **The warrior cried as he slammed into the ground with explosive force.

"Enemy double kill!" The announcer voice cried.


	22. Chapter 22: Answers lead to questions

Chapter 22: Answers only lead to more questions.

More months had passed him by. Three more champions had entered the League at this point.

The busty and domineering Zyra was somehow frightening to most humans, but her plant instincts in her human form made her slightly humorous. Often times she would stand in a pool of water and present her body to the Sun or Leona. The first time that had happened Leona had comically run off to her room and locked herself inside for several days.

The brutish Rengar was uneventful. Ever since his final hunt to remove the head of an alien creature, he had spent long hours learning to actually read so he may gain access to the library. The brute was even starting to make somewhat intellectual sentences and jabs instead of "I'M GOING TO CUT YOUR HEART OUT AND STICK IT ON MY WALL!" which he said to almost everyone who disappointed him. That also turned out to be everyone as well for that matter.

Then there was Diana. A slightly more agreeable conversation option than the last two. Originally a researcher, her interests into the Moon had slowly grown into fanaticism after being declared a heretic by the Solari. Being branded on her forehead in the sign of the heretic, she had set out alone to continue her research. When she had returned, she wore an ancient suit of armor and bore a crescent blade, both inscribed in the moon's blessing.

She then enacted revenge for all those years she had suffered under the Solari, cutting them down to their last with the power she had been granted.

The term 'lunatic' described her perfectly.

She still researched lunar patterns and its surface in the League Archives, which often meant that Xerath and her would occasionally cross paths.

As a heretic, she found solace in other heretics. As a researcher, she also found it better to converse with other intellectuals as well.

Whenever the EMIA group entered the dining hall for conversation in a lighter tone, Xerath would always find Diana's face beaming with excitement at the opportunity to join them. To Xerath, it was fine to let Diana in. He knew what it felt like to be outcast. Viktor and Heimer both agreed that it was fine as well.

"The more there are, the greater the chance of sporadic entertainment to occur." Heimerdinger had told him.

* * *

"So a couple get married," Diana started. "And have a child called Aluni. Why did they call her Aluni? BECAUSE HER MOTHER WAS A LOONY TO MARRY HIM! HAHAAHAHAHAHA!"

Intense rage filled Xerath. This woman was the epitome of bad jokes. The archangel of poor puns. The saint of sh*t humor.

But somehow Heimerdinger was laughing uncontrollably and Viktor was having trouble holding back his.

"MY SIDES HURT SO MUCH!" The yordle cried out.

So why haven't I laughed yet? I am not completely rid of human thought or emotion, yet these two are completely losing it. Perhaps I am not laughing just because I have heard Diana's jokes too many times. But she did always produce new ones somehow. How could she actually come up with these?

It just does not make sense!

"Xerath!" A familiar female and human voice cried out.

Xerath looked over to the Summoner.

"Ah, Izulo Jun. It has been a long time indeed."

Jun was a decent Summoner. Far from the best, but her emotional stability and rational nature had granted her numerous victories even from almost certain defeats.

But she was panting surprisingly. It was not that she wasn't fit, more that she never enjoyed running, instead focusing on going at her own pace.

That made her panting even more surprising.

"Xerath, I need your help in something. I mean," Jun paused as she always did when she was trying to get an important point across. "Your expertise would be incredibly useful in this time."

"Tell me then. I have time."

"Good," Jun said catching her breath. "There's been an incident with an Ionian facility which has just declared independence."

"Independence? Surely that would be something to be solved by Ionian forces?"

"They tried that first. The task force sent was obliterated by the inhabitant."

"Inhabitant? Why singular? Did one person obliterate an armed force by themselves?"

"Yes." Jun said plainly, too plainly in fact.

"So why did you rush to find me when others such as the Kinkou Ninja? Obviously there is more to this."

"I- J- Fuuuu- Just come with me, okay? All the information you could want is in the Situation Room. You should quickly see why I need your expertise."

* * *

The Dark Sovereign, the Ionians called her. Undeniably powerful as evident from the destruction of an entire Ionian company, but hardly 'Dark'. There was very little he could use to describe her as 'Dark', so why was she called it? Sovereign was less of the matter as it was describing her as being a potential ruler of a nation. What was Dark about this girl?

"Summoner Jun, why did you bring the Mage Xerath here? This is an Ionian affair and should be considered by Ionians." The Captain of the Ionian Guard, Irelia, inquired.

"I believe he has enough expertise in the arcane arts to speak on the matter. I know of his sheer power and understanding so much so that I would like his opinion on the potential 'threat' of Syndra." Jun defended.

A sympathizer to the Dark Sovereign?

Jun?

But there could be something more to Jun's actions.

Either way this should be interesting.

"You know what the Dark Sovereign line has done to the past, especially considering you are related to the current one!" Irelia cried.

Well then, that explains most of that.

Was she just trying to save a relative?

Using a being that brought about an apocalypse?

What is Jun thinking?

"She is a cousin of mine yes, but that does not mean that I object to controlling her. You people did so in a brutish and animalistic fashion, incarcerating and anaesthetizing her from her immense power without giving her even a chance of even swaying your minds." The conversation was growing more and more hostile.

"If I may interject, why is this Syndra such an important asset to Ionia?"

"She isn't," Irelia quickly snapped, "She is a monster that must be contained at all costs. Her bloodline has created enough destruction from their ravings about rebellion and ridding Ionia of its ruling classes."

Turning Ionia into a republic. Of course it had to come down to politics. Only politicians would be mad enough to blame a child for their ancestor's wrongdoings. But even then this is ridiculous.

There has to be something more.

"You have not said anything about her magical technique. Grant me those, and I will be able to work on finding out how to help her."

"She does not need help. She needs to be contained-"

"IRELIA! That is enough." A voice called out, carrying astounding gravity that no human voice could ever generate.

It was Karma, Ionia's foremost diplomat and the last of a pacifist monkhood struck down during the Noxian invasion several years ago.

"Forgive Irelia Xerath, she is rather patriotic."

"Slightly too much for my tastes to be honest."

Karma held back her giggle, most likely to appear hospitable and welcoming.

"Even patriotism has its merits, Xerath. But back to the matter at hand. Syndra's imprisonment was a result of old men who control the Ionian Council. I personally have tried a several times to remove the harsh restrictions placed on Syndra since I learned of her situation. I think of her as an innocent child. Her isolation has only reinforced her childish thoughts, making her blunt and readable. Might I ask what you would propose to do to make her considerate enough to not attempt a coup-d'état and remove the current Council?" Karma inquired.

Well thought question.

"I know full well what monstrosities raw power can conjure. I will not allow another to undergo the same torture I went through. I could care less about the Council's wellbeing, it should even be stricken down for a more considerate one should my say matter. However, I will teach Syndra how to control her powers. Whether they are used for good or evil, I will not know until her life ends, but the understanding of her powers inside and out is paramount to her success as such a mage. If she is granted knowledge to complex interactions, then she may just prove to be a good person. I will teach Syndra the arcane arts in the most uncensored way I can. If she were to ever become uncontrollable, I will end her myself. That is my vow that I declare to you right here and now."

"Well met. In five days, you and Ahri will set off to the Northern Port of Piltover, Glassgown. From there, you will be taking a ship to Yujong, Ionia, then proceed up through the Eastern mountains to Yamanoryu and set up a base of operations. After that, Syndra's palace is but a few days walk."

"Ahri? Why her?"

"She has some other business in Northern Ionia. We want to send her on a mission that will not end up with her drinking enough alcohol to make even Gragas tipsy. She does know about the mission as well and it suits her pretty nicely. She has no political ties that make her seem threatening to Syndra, so that is another good thing."

A mission with the fox.

This is going to be entertaining.

* * *

Xerath sat in the auditorium, contemplating what had just transpired.

Syndra.

An incredibly powerful mage no doubt, but could her magic help him with EMIA?

Reports of her magic showed compound arcane and physical elements to them, something he never thought was possible.

Dual integrated mediums were incredibly hard to control. This was due to dispersion forces between the two that rapidly degenerated into layers or bubbles of matter and magic, like oil mixed with water. It may be the case of partial integration of matter and magic, particles with arcanophilic and atomophilic properties to suspend the two in one mixture.

But that would be ridiculous. This girl had limited training, focusing on keeping balance and harmony, not advanced arcane mechanisms.

Ionia was a weird place indeed.

'Be at peace with yourself and things will come out better' was just the same as being positive and ignoring negative outcomes. It was just another outlook.

Maybe.

"Mage Xerath, I want to talk with you." A gruff voice called.

Xerath turned his head to see the man that had called him.

It was the man named Darius.

Darius was a monster of a man, standing over six foot tall and had muscles that rivaled even oxen. His signature axe and armor was not on his person, which left him in traditional Noxian military uniform. His 'casual clothes' he called them.

In the end, he was a simple brute, but a respectable one at that. He enjoyed the idea of facing off against a strong opponent, even if it left him at a disadvantage. He admired anyone with immense power, including Xerath.

"Ah Darius, what brings you here?"

"I want to speak with you about possible allegiances."

"Strange for Jericho to send someone like you to consort with a mage like me, let alone try to win one over."

"Swain is currently busy and there were few options that were level-headed enough to deal with allegiances." Darius looked across the auditorium where a large crystal screen showed his brother Draven laughing maniacally at the torment he had put Ashe in.

He was enjoying it like the true sadist he was.

"So please continue." Xerath replied.

"Well, you are an undoubtedly powerful magician so it is natural that Noxus has interest in you."

"Swain has interest in me." Xerath corrected him. "Noxians have a tendency to enjoy bloody melees more than tactical and strategic deletion from several kilometers away."

"I cannot say no to that." Darius chuckled for a second. "But I-"

"Swain."

"Alright fine. Swain wants to know where you stand on the Noxian-Demacian conflict."

Xerath paused. It was more that he had not thought much about the hostility between the two nations than actually having an opinion on the matter. But Demacians were generally more annoying that Noxians in his opinion bar a few exceptions. Darius and Swain were both fairly moderate, with most of the other Noxian champions rejoicing in the adrenaline-fueled slaughter of their enemies.

For Demacia, both Shyvana and Sona were respectable individuals, the former being brutish yet modest and strong-willed while the latter could calm even him with her blissful recitals. For the others, they were just plain and uninteresting people or were almost fanatical in their faith of the Will of Demacia.

"I have a slight likening of Noxus, only a slight amount though. Other than that, I have very little interest in the two nations. Be warned though, should your conflicts EVER disrupt the security of my assets, then I WILL stop both of you."

"You mean to take on both Demacia and Noxus at the same time? You are a funny man, Xerath." Darius joked.

"That was no joke Darius. I have methods to disrupt the march of entire armies, as evident by Uebel."

Darius grew a slight smile on his face, his eyes closed to suppress himself.

"Very well then. At least that wasn't as bad as I thought it could be."

"As bad?" Xerath inquired jokingly.

"You did not lecture me with ideas beyond this mind's capacity. I was built for the cacophony of battle, Xerath, not the clatter of chalk on a board."

"A brute to the end I see."

"Indeed so. If you will excuse me then, I have other plans to attend to."

With that, Darius sat up from his seat and walked out of the auditorium.

I will probably need better answers in the future.


	23. Chapter 23: Damn you Xerath

Chapter 23: Damn you Xerath.

"Lord Xerath, where are you going?" Azel's voice questioned.

"Places." Xerath replied, attempting to make a joke. "I have business in Ionia which I must attend to. You should be fine practicing your magic on your own now. When I get back, I want you to have mastered Hornet Shards."

"Oh come on! That spell requires over a thousand conditions to generate, and controlling the shards is even harder."

"You require another demonstration?"

"Well it is really awesome to watch a good Hornet Shard spell. I've seen a couple expert mages pull of some really cool firework performances. So a demonstration would be nice."

"Very well. I too enjoy showing Hornet Shards off. I find it to be a really fun spell and it is also the introduction to advanced Projectile Swarm spells. One day even a dunce such as yourself might be able to master it."

Xerath had gathered enough influence in the League to establish a small spell firing range in his dormitories.

There were obviously restrictions on what sort of power the spells could be fired, but they had been condensed down into one rule.

No big bangs that could upset the neighbors.

Due to the null-magic materials interwoven into his concrete dormitory, upsetting the neighbors was fairly hard to do. This let Xerath try all sorts of experiments when Azel was not around such as arcane fusion containment. But that experiment had not gone so well when Azel's diary had gotten partially burnt. She really loved her diary.

Her stern talk with Xerath later had confirmed that.

The two stood at the far side of the range, looking down at the wooden targets that lay at the other end of the range.

"Pay attention now Azel, I will do it only once. I'm even going to make the Shards luminescent so that you do not completely miss their formation."

Manipulating the range controls, two targets took their places about thirty meters away from the two and another ten apart.

"Your mission is to hit both of those targets using only four shards at their heads and central torso. That is what I want from you when I come back."

"Example?" Azel raised her eyebrow at him in expectation of his awesome spell.

Xerath sighed. "Very well then. Watch closely. You may want to stand back a bit."

Xerath concentrated for a second, consolidating himself.

Raising his two hands, tiny shards of twirling azure light sparkled around him, each humming with their own pitch.

"This is the first step, conjuring the projectiles. Now we designate a target and trajectory."

The shards stopped twirling, poising themselves like daggers at the two targets ahead.

"Now we unleash the swarm." Xerath concluded.

With a rapid motion of his hands, the shards accelerated rapidly. Their glisten sparkled down the range, embedding themselves in the wooden targets.

"Happy?"

"I thought you were going to do it with more power." Azel pouted with disapproval.

"Oh, you want something better?"

"You know I do instead of this kiddy sparkly sh*t."

"Like this then?"

Motioning his right hand, the air thrummed with a thousand crackles of light. In but a moment, air rushed across Azel's face from the recoil of their launch. The wooden targets were bathed in the azure light for an instant before disappearing from existence, leaving only the smoking ruin of their bases.

"Good enough?"

"Damn right."

"I expect you to be able to do that when I come back."

"WHHAAAAAAAA! OH COME ON MASTER! YOU KNOW I DON'T LIKE THAT KID SH*T!"

"Then you should practice it like an adult. Anyway, I must get ready to set off. I believe the Northern Ionians say 'Sayonara' at this point."

"At least bring me back something good from those markets I hear about."

"You assume I will ever enter a market? Ha. I doubt it."

"You should at least get me something for when I master the Hornet Shards."

"I'll get you a sticker saying 'You did it!' with a smiling face on it, then proceed to brag about your success at the next work meeting at how much you've grown. Does that sound good?"

"…"

"…"

"Shut up."

* * *

Xerath arrived at the convoy well clothed and prepared. To anyone who did not hear his reverberating and inhuman voice, he was like an average run-of-the-mill brooding protagonist with a likening to dark clothing. But the clothes did serve a purpose other than appearing completely bad-*ss.

Reducing his arcane signature would assure Syndra and other magically aware Ionians that Xerath did have magic, just not so much as to be considered a threat to their safety.

Ahri was signing a board that one of the Summoners had given her, her slightly more serious expression suggesting that it actually was paper-work for the expedition and not just some random fan who wanted an autograph.

"Ahri." Xerath called out to her, "Are we all set for this exotic trip?"

"Its just Ionia," Ahri replied. She had traveled throughout Ionia during her search for what she was, so very few places in Ionia had the same spark of amazement than that which tourists had such as Xerath. "Not that impressive."

"Better than unending sand dunes."

"Those are better than the same forests for entire miles."

"At least there is enough fauna and flora to keep one entertained."

"Of which twenty percent can kill a man with their poisons, not counting several others who can just gulp down a man like a sweet."

"Do you know me as a man who will let that happen?"

"That is what they all say before they all get killed by tripping into a pit of venomous snakes."

"I am an arcane being, so venom does not apply to me."

"Ionia also has some weird anti-magic poisons as well, so it can apply."

"Not when I can neutralize the poison with over twelve giga-joules of magical energy."

"…"

Ahri's face went blank.

"You win this round." Ahri sighed in defeat.

Ahri liked these sort of back and forth quick-fire conversations to see whoever would mess up first. For her it was incredibly fun and relied on quick wits, of which she had plenty. But Xerath had his own wit that was on par with hers.

Thanks Tabia.

"So, yeah, we are just about ready to set off for Glassgown. Just need a couple more minutes for everyone else to get ready. Merchants are just so slow sometimes."

"The Institute is reducing their costs by using a merchant convoy?"

"Its easier than making a new one for this fairly simple adventure. We'll just be heading over to a port anyway, so there's no real point making an official expedition. Even when we get to Ionia, we'll be getting merchant rides most of the way. I don't exactly want to walk all the way to Yamanoryu."

"Have you been there before?"

"Yeah, pretty good place. It's far away from the Ionian Council's influence so there are fewer political sh*theads around. Then again, the place is very… superstitious. They do not like weird sh*t going down in their city. Magic is nonexistent in the place, and magical beings are often frowned upon. If one thing goes wrong, it's the damn magicians fault, always. Just like when Summoners blame their junglers for things that occur on the other side of the f**king Rift. That happened once to me and I got a whole sh*t storm dumped on me. Also there are dragons."

"Dragons?"

Oh great, just one more thing to think about.

"Well you can tell from the name can't you? It is literally 'the mountain of Dragons', except some idiot messed up their use of the genitive case. It's pretty much the last city in Runeterra where Dragons are considered acceptable, mainly because the Dragon bloodline living there actually respects humans. People pilgrimage from across the world, so the security there is absolutely ridiculous."

"When did you last visit Yamanoryu? Surely your participation in the League would have eliminated all charges."

"I did have a life before the League, you know. I," Ahri stopped for a second and thought about that tumultuous time before she entered the League. "It was during the Ionian Invasion by Noxian and Zaunite forces seven years ago. Those were some pretty hard times for everyone. If anything, it made my experiences in Ionia worse because 'SHE'S DIFFERENT! SHE'S DEFINITELY A BAD GUY!' thing that people often do whenever sh*t goes down."

Ahri's fist clenched slightly.

Xerath had heard about the Ionian invasion, a time of great catastrophe for Ionia. Ionia had managed to fend off the two invading nations with their arcane arsenal and the power of Dragons. Turned out the Dragons were real after all.

Xerath had never considered much in terms of Ionian culture and history, but Dragons were the ultimate beasts of war.

Dragons are significant threats to an enemy force. There are few other creatures with such a domineering presence.

Armor that could shrug off even the broadside battery of a battleship, immense talons and teeth that could rip through even the hardest Demacian steel, a breath that could carry all manner of intense magical energy capable of rendering armies to dust and an intelligence to understand all manner of combat tactics.

Not to mention that the vast majority of them can fly.

Noxus, with their focus on a bulk steady advance with artillery support, had been rendered useless by the air superiority provided by Dragon strikes and local guerilla forces.

Zaun had a different strategy of using Search and Destroy missions to eliminate targets of opportunity in order to support the Noxian advance through Ionia. Their strategy had caused significant dismay to many in their cold and heartless strikes against both military and civilian populations, but it was an undeniably effective strategy that had swayed many key victories in the favor of Zaun and Noxus.

Ahri, as well as the vast majority of Ionian champions, had either been significantly affected or had proven themselves during the conflict. It was a harsh reality.

A horrible time to live in.

Xerath felt pity for them.

Having destroyed the glory of his country, it was easier to understand the tarnishing of another.

"Ah! You are the two from the Institute right?" A fairly large and round man called.

The many jewels he wore on his person compared with the other modest tradesmen suggested that he was in charge of the operation. The man was hobbling down the cobbled road with some difficulty.

"Yeah. The convoy is ready then?" Ahri quickly questioned, wanting to get rid of this newcomer unless he actually had some worthwhile news to tell her.

"Name's Daefyd Grigor. The convoy is indeed ready, milady. We'll be setting off very shortly." The merchant panted before spying Ahri's figure.

"In the meantime, who might this beauty before my eyes be?"

No worthwhile news. Get out of here, pig.

"Ahri. And that hooded crystal there is Xerath." Ahri declared quickly wanting rid of this man.

"Well diamonds are a girl's best friends after all. Hahaha!"

He even cracked a bad joke. Xerath please take a hint here.

Xerath took the hint.

"Diamonds can be mass-produced via arcane transmutation of graphite. I prefer to be described as sapphire or onyx. Slightly more prestigious in my opinion."

A scientific term to shut him up. Something Ahri approved of against this pr*ck.

"Alright then." Daefyd looked significantly shocked by the talking crystal scientist. "I'll get the convoy going then."

Daefyd made his way to the front of the convoy fairly quickly. Ahri found it slightly amusing how this merchant tried to run yet only fall face first into the ground, turning his face red from the abrasive stone.

"He was far too annoying anyway. I bought us quite a bit of time. Hopefully enough to last the entire journey to Glassgown."

"Thanks I guess, that guy is a total d*ck. Hate people like that."

"You should learn science. It makes everyone shut up because they don't understand basic scientific terminology."

"I don't exactly get that sort of thing. Especially when you talk about numbers, numbers are too hard."

"Mathematics is amazing! You can prove all manner of relationships with formula discovered decades or even centuries ago. Obviously some of them are relatively hard such as functions, but they all rely on the basics to produce an indeed fascinating answer. Mathematicians do use a lot of jargon to describe it though."

"Yeeaaaa…" Ahri accentuated. "That stuff is pretty ridiculous."

"So shall we get a move on?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

The two Champions moved on to the back of one of the wooden wagons.

"ALRIGHT! WE ARE MOVING OUT!" The voice of Daefyd called out.

With a clatter and jolt of wooden gears, the convoy started their journey to Glassgown.

"Ahri, would you like some liquid dihydrogen monoxide?"

"Isn't that poisonous or something?"

Xerath held up a water canteen to her.

"Gods damn it… Just stop that already."

"No mercy." Xerath laughed.


	24. Chapter 24: Progress indeed

Chapter 24: Progress indeed.

The convoy had just entered Piltover territory.

Within a few moments, mechanized armor and infantry immediately surrounded the convoy at the registered checkpoint.

"Have your papers and trade warrants ready." A heavy robotized voice bellowed.

So this was what happened when two countries were in paralysis from the thought of insurgency.

Guards and their hounds scoured the cargo for undeclared cargo, their weapons armed and ready for any being even thinking of making a run for it.

Xerath and Ahri both had Institute authority, so they were completely safe.

Others were less so.

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!" One merchant cried out.

"This is an undeclared chemical. All undeclared chemicals will be confiscated and tested under the Piltover Peace Act Section 098. If you seek to have this chemical returned, acquire an appropriate form from the Piltover Customs Office and return it within the next week." The Piltover guard recited the lines his superiors had told him.

"IT'S A DAMN SIX PACK OF DEMACIAN ALE!"

"Then get an undeclared food form instead, sonny. Or do you have a problem with that?"

"I DO! YOU ARE ENCROACHING ON MY RIGHTS AS A MERCHANT TO HAVE WHATEVER FOOD I BOUGHT WITH MY OWN. DAMN. MONEY!"

"Well now," the guard chuckled, a glint of satisfaction in his eye. "I think my bosses would like to have a word with you."

A quick crack of electricity made the man keel over.

Coughing up saliva, the man tried to recover.

"Meet one of my bosses, Mr Taser. He really does not like it when his employees get talked down like that. Do you really want to do that again?"

"N-No."

"Good," the guard said. "TAKE ALL OF HIS CARGO! Never know what else might be in there."

"WHAT! YOU CAN'T DO THAT! IT WAS ALL A-" The merchant roared before he was met once again with the Taser.

"Listen here, you ungrateful sh*t! I'm stuck here on guard duty while my cousin is out in the town getting wh*res and high on methyl. You think I give a f**k about you and your 'merchant rights'? Bunch'o bullsh*t. You're in Piltover now, boy, the greatest nation on Runeterra that gives no sh*ts about your personal privacy. Even your hotel bathroom is wired to pre-emptively stop you from even talking bad about us. It really is a fun existence, **isn't it?**"

With that, the guard walked off, leaving his comrades to remove every last crate from the merchant's wagon. Unexpectedly, the guard stopped and walked back to the wagon.

Moving his hand around the six-pack, the guard's next words to the spluttering man unleashed something.

"I'm going to be taking these too, as part of a personal fine if you will."

Drawing his short sword, the merchant attempted to swing at the guard in blind anger.

The steel cut through the man's armored vest, displaying viscous blood as it wracked flesh.

A quick and complex whir of gears sounded out across the station as one of the Piltoverian battle suits aimed its imposing rifle at the man, swiftly followed by the deafening boom of the gun.

The merchant upper torso was bathed in a flash of light, reducing him to ash where he stood.

The guard was blasted backwards, his mostly intact armor cushioning most of the blast.

He came to, coughing up blood but mostly unharmed. The short sword had managed to slice through a significant portion of his flesh, but nothing a good doctor could eventually patch up.

Xerath had watched Ahri quickly avert her eyes and cover her ears as the battle suit's gun had unleashed fire.

She often got scared at the chorus of explosions.

Many Ionians, including even Jun, had such fears.

Another aftermath of the Ionian Invasion, which introduced so many otherwise peaceful lives with the intense cacophonous din of Noxian artillery, leaving so much death and destruction in their wake that a new condition known as Noxian Shell Paranoia was christened in response to it.

There were cases of even a glimpse of battlefields miles away 'gifting' a quarter of a village with this new psychological condition.

It was suggested that due to the Ionia's strong Wisp concentration, the destruction that these spirits had witnessed manifested in the dreams and thoughts of magically responsive Ionians, turning some into nervous wrecks.

"D-Don't worry, I'll be fine. Just give me a minute." Ahri stammered before quickly returning to her previous composure.

Xerath enjoyed her more when she was full of sharp wit and humor. It suited her well for her animal form. She could well have been the daughter of a fox professor at Foxshire University who had done a major on the great cunning of foxes. Her illustrious beauty was also undeniable, but there were other beauties such as Sarah Fortune who did nothing but yap at common ordeals and wage mindless conflict, so Xerath ignored ideas of beauty for the most part.

The convoy moved on, ignoring their loss of the merchant.

* * *

To the west, lay the great city of Piltover.

Immense glistening skyscrapers of glass and shining steel sat like blades against the fast approaching dusk. Even still, a thousand lights glittered in their darkness, a city always progressing, not once stopping for anything.

No time to focus on the past, only to produce new and exciting inventions and innovations to completely work around life's menial tasks. If you had an idea and it managed to work, then you would actually have a place among the Piltoverian elite.

For most of the population though, that was improbable.

The Piltoverian elite were well-trained in producing and protecting their inventions, often going so far as to deny younger generations the fundamental ideas of even coining a new term to use for their inventions, starving the young of innovation.

At least that was what Heimerdinger had told him over some tea, immediately going off on a tangent on preserving the purity of tea after being questioned by one of his students why he had not put milk in with it.

Most Piltoverians loved a 'cupa' or a 'mug', especially Heimerdinger. At the time, it was almost comical how the students had not heard of tea without milk, as if it was some alien delicacy from the Shadow Isles. The idea came naturally to Heimerdinger since he disliked the taste of milk, but he had to reply with a more intellectual answer than that.

"You see, students," Heimerdinger had begun in his shrill voice, "You need two-, no wait, THREE ingredients to make tea. First is water, as without water what will you use as the solvent? The second is tea leaves, quite obviously. And the third is…" Heimerdinger let the students think for a second on what he was about to say.

Whispers of "Milk, it just has to be milk" and "It's obviously milk" had resounded off Heimerdinger's marble dining room.

"Short-chain alkanes!" Heimerdinger declared triumphantly.

Absolute silence.

All of the students' faces remained puzzled at their teacher's failure of a joke.

"Heimerdinger," Xerath interrupted, wanting to add to the conversation, "You forgot about the container."

"Oh… fie. Forgive me, seems I forgot about that part as well."

Suddenly one of the students raised their hand.

"Professor Heimerdinger?"

"What is it, Matthew?"

"Would the corpses of our enemies be a suitable replacement for a fuel source?"

Every student in the room suddenly got the joke, followed by a morbid disgust at this new turn of events.

"Well, you can indeed, if you want to make Morally Ambiguous Tea or, as I might call it, MAT! HEHEHEHE!"

Even Xerath had laughed at that poor joke.

* * *

The convoy stopped at Glassgown, the midnight black making the cobbled streets and Gothic houses appear to be hiding strange horrors from the depths in every back alley.

Ahri and Xerath departed from the trade convoy quickly, the thought of a slightly safer haven being fairly appetizing at this point after eight days of riding on a rickety wagon.

The two entered a local tavern, a brief flash of official Institute badges quickly granted the two their respective rooms with no further questions.

Ahri quickly asked for some good alcohol, but after a futile attempt of some 'home-made' ale, she quickly ceased her attempts and fell back to tea.

The face the bartender made when asked for a kettle of tea, without milk, was absolutely priceless.

Ahri proceeded up the stairs into her small room, quite content with her beverage.

Xerath proceeded to his room as well, climbing the stairs using his heavy boots to seem as human as possible to these sheltered folk.

* * *

Hours passed him as he tried to sleep.

He had long lost any sense of rejuvenation from the activity, but any shred of sleep he acquired had the nostalgic bliss of his human years.

He had been trying to find some way to replicate the feelings he knew from his human life, which had been rewarded with artificial touch and taste, relying on momentum changes and chemical analysis to describe the sensations around him.

The bed, for example, felt like the internal filler was wool covered by cloth.

He could sense that without looking, a good thing to know when one loses all senses to the world.

He did not have much need for taste since it was often hard to remove the food that simply went down in between his joints of his crystal body without combusting them at several hundred degrees Kelvin, sending wafts of smoke up into the atmosphere.

That was not a good way to do it in public.

Suddenly combusting in the middle of a street was not very appealing to most people.

Ahri was turning often in her bed.

The wooden walls that separated them were not soundproof in the slightest.

His other neighbors had proven that with their own 'expedition' in their own bed.

"This is the room, roight?" A brief whisper came through from the hallway.

"No, it's this one on the right. The beaut' should be in this 'ere one."

"A'roight. Let's get this 'un ready for ya."

A click of the locks of Ahri's room.

Sh*t, what sort of backwards town was this?

Xerath sat up from his bed, readying himself for what he might need to do.

A muffled cry and resistance.

I need to stop this.

Now.

* * *

The intruders were desperately trying to inject something into her.

I can't conjure anything like this.

I need at least a few seconds of concentration.

Something these *ssholes are not giving me.

"You were roight when ya said she was a fox, mate. She has 'de f**kn' ears and 'dem tails."

A hand was clasped around her mouth and her two hands were bound together.

Sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t.

Get off me, you pathetic wastes of existence.

The door burst open in a crackle of lightning.

Xerath comes to save the day.

Woot.

* * *

Xerath blasted the door down, hands outstretched with crackling crystalline palms ready to strike against any opponent.

"THE F**K IS THIS GUY?" One of the two cried out, readying his revolver at this arcane newcomer.

"YOU JUS' MADE A HUGE F**KIN' MISTAKE MATE!" The other declared, his concentration on pinning down Ahri waning for a second.

Ahri managed to move her mouth slightly, biting his hand like a rapid dog.

"YOU F**KE- AAAHHAAARAAAARGH!" The man reeled back from his grasp.

Ahri wriggled her way off the bed, motioning a spell.

Several crackles of fire ignited themselves into cerulean balls of fox-fire.

Motioning once again with her fingers, a fusillade of arcane fire wracked the man who had pinned her down.

The man fell back down onto the bed, howling in sheer agony as the spirit fire set the bed alight.

"YOU VIXEN B*TCH!" The one with the revolver cried, leveling the gun around to Ahri.

The man howled in pain as coruscating lightning flooded his body in azure sparks.

The man fell, dead, onto the hard wooden floor.

"AHRI! Are you alright?" Xerath shifted his focus onto the girl.

"Does it look like I'm alright? I had two men just try to kidnap me for god's sake!"

Ahri had small tears in her eyes.

"Thank the gods you heard that." She said quickly, panting from the adrenaline rush of the event.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!" The voice of the bartender cried out.

"Two men just tried to capture my companion for some unknown act. I have contacts with the Sheriff of Piltover, get me a landline and I will have her send some people to investigate this. You are also clear to mail the Institute of War for property damage, which I will approve."

"That better damn well happen." The bartender angrily replied. "My gods! She's one of those magical creatures I thought only existed in fairy tales!" He gawked at the sight of Ahri's outstretched ears and her nine tails.

"Get 'er out of here now! I don't want anymore of that in my building!"

"YOU ONLY REALIZE THAT NOW WHEN I HAVE BEEN SHOWING MY FACE TO YOU THIS WHOLE TIME?" Xerath cried, annoyed at the man's ignorance.

"Isn't that just a mask or something?"

"No." Xerath removed his hood, revealing his crystalline body to the man.

"I am perhaps the most prominent mage this land has ever seen, I doubt someone like you could even comprehend what I went through!"

The bartender was absolutely mortified in horror. Never before had he seen such a sight as Xerath's crystal body that emanated magic like the very Sun itself.

"Get out. Get out. Get out! Get out! GET OUT NOW!"

"We leave on the morrow, with ten times the rent paid in addition to the Institute's compensation for the damage."

That had shut the bartender up for a moment.

TEN TIMES the rent pay.

A worthy deal indeed, along with the Institute's financial compensation.

"Fine. So where will the miss be staying now? Should I get another room?"

"She may sleep in mine if she so wishes."

This was probably a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

If this got out to the rest of the League, then who knows what would happen.

Apart from every damn Summoner wanting Xerath's magical energies strewed across Valoran in jealousy.

"I'm fine with that."

This was stupid.

This is so stupid of me.

May the fates have mercy on me for what I have done.

"It's better than increasing the rent pay by fifty percent."

"So you do know a bit of mathematics."

"I can do three divided by two, okay?"

"That would actually be one-point-five X plus compensation charge C."

"Fine, fine. I'll just shut up then."

* * *

Ahri had moved her salvageable baggage across to Xerath's room.

Ahri was struggling to sleep, tossing and turning by Xerath's side.

"You alright?"

"HOLY SH*T You're awake!" Ahri said slightly louder than she expected.

"I have very limited interests in sleep since my Ascension. I often just lay still and think, unlike you."

"Well it was just unexpected was all. Not a sound came from you."

"Would it be better if I snored?"

"Hell no."

…

"You are scared about something?"

"Wha-What do you mean?"

"I had a friend who would do a similar thing a long time ago. She was a good person. She… She did not deserve what I did to her." Xerath looked away, ashamed of what he had done to her and everyone he once knew.

"Was this person named Tabia?" Ahri questioned.

She had struck a vein.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"It was a while back. You know how I used to steal a man's essence before I joined the League? Well I still kind of do, somewhat. D-Don't worry, it's not bad or anything it's, it's just that it happens with my essence theft sometimes. I get small, and I mean incredibly small, bits of information or memories that tag along with the rejuvenating energy. That happened, and I got that name. Just that one name. With how many times you had said that and how comforted the words felt, I found it obvious that Tabia meant a lot to you."

"Yeah, she did, and still does, mean quite a lot to me. She was my friend and possibly my fiancée if I had ever gotten around to asking her. This was when I was still human as well, so I had not Ascended yet. She was one of a special kind of magician known as Insulators, a very rare breed of mage from which my other thousand fellow students at my old academy, only five were Insulators. I was an Inductor, another rare breed of magicians, so our classes were often similar because of how few Inductors and Insulators there were. We often saw each other and we got on well with each other. Then I came down with an terminal illness."

"So you tried to do this Ascension thing?"

"Yes, basically. I did this on my own so as to control my concentration. However, while I was Ascending, Tabia showed up. In a single brief lapse of my concentration, a blast of arcane energy from the sphere killed her outright. It was my fault that she lost her life. It-It was hard for me. But I could not mourn when my Ascension was at hand, lest I suffer the same fate. So I kept on going, until my body turned into this monster." Xerath motioned with his crystal hand.

"I'm-I'm sorry to hear. I-I didn't know it was that tragic. I'm sorry I asked."

"Do not be. She was dead before even your greatest of ancestors emerged from their mother's womb. She would have died of old age by now anyway, and so would I had I not Ascended. With how many good friends I have now, I might even consider my Ascension as being a success."

Ahri chuckled.

"So what were you scared about?" Xerath questioned.

"Fine. I guess I have to say something about it now." Ahri sighed. "It's a couple of things, small things, nothing that would affect most people. Y- You know I was saying about me getting small memories from people whenever I steal essence? Well, when I was going around Ionia shortly after my transformation into this human form, I stole a lot of essence from as many people as I could. At the time, I didn't care about the consequences. They were all just food for me, stupid people looking for a good time. But then I started to have dreams. All sorts of dreams, from happy and fun recollections of childhood friends to horrid nightmares of horrific battles. None of them were my own experiences, but that of the people I had killed by sucking every last drop of their very spirit. I started to realize that the people I had killed actually had _lives_, which I took away everything they knew and cast them into the next life. And then the dreams started to intensify, each one of them a horrible reminder of what I had done. I constantly tried to suppress them, but they only came back again and again. They just kept on coming and coming and I just couldn't handle it and- and- and I- I-"

Ahri was on the verge of tears at this point, her very voice trembling in fright of her reality.

"Was this one of the reasons why you sought out the League?"

Ahri nodded, still trembling by his side.

"You saw what happened when the bartender found out that I was a fox? That… That happened quite a bit in Ionia. I found it really hard to continue on with my life when I had both these dreams and people always being scared of my fox nature. There were people who liked me, but only for the size of my breasts and all those stupid things that men are always fixated on. Not one of them cared about who I really was, just the fact that I was beautiful. I checked that as well, some of the memories were of their last moments with me. They didn't think about me, just that I was a girl willing to do the things men liked. Some of them even liked the fox aspect of me because they found them 'cute'. At the end of it all, I was struggling with my mind and the hatred from everyone around me. I was thankful enough to be scouted out by the Institute before something crazy happened. From there, I became what I am today."

Ahri had calmed down now thankfully. That was a good sign.

"Are you taking what happened in your stride? It hasn't really effected you too much from what I can tell."

"I'm okay. I'm kind of used to people doing all sorts of weird shit to get close to me. Summoners included. It is still frightening to go through that sort of ordeal, you know?"

"Good to know then."

"You realize that this is the first time I've been in the same bed as a man and not seduce him?"

"Discount me as a man. I have gone beyond biological functions."

"And that means?"

"I have no thing. Therefore I do not need to care about wanting to seduce you." Xerath said frankly.

Ahri's face went completely blank.

"What." She managed to say.

"I no longer have my phallus so I am effectively a eunuch."

"Well this has just turned awkward as sh*t."

* * *

More hours passed till dawn and somehow the two managed to get some amount of sleep.

Having paid the additional rent that left a significant hole in their pockets and the signing of an official Institute compensation certificate, Ahri and Xerath moved to secure their place on the trade cog to Yujong.

The trade ship was of typical Ionian design, a long slung body and a heavy dorsal sail that blocked out the eastern sunrise. An old vessel from before even the foundation of the Institute. The captain, an aging, modest, man by the name of Fei Yun, disagreed that it was a weak vessel, only outclassed by Piltoverian advancements. And Piltover outclassed nearly everything, except when some random Zaunic scientist made a superior design in his backyard shed.

The oncoming cargo was comparatively low compared with the other Piltoverian vessels, each capable of holding an entire cities worth of goods. Undoubtedly homely though, the crew having a jovial and upkeep attitude as well as the small smuggler cabin being made for kings.

Their little smuggler cabin was stocked with homely goods, going so far as to install a small rack of shelves with all manner of novels. They had even bolted down miniature garden arrangement in the far corner. At least these people knew something of hospitality.

"Ahri?"

"Yeah?"

"You deserve to be in the League. I have seen so many magicians with stronger and more cataclysmic powers than you, but you have two things they do not. The power to think for the betterment of those around you and yourself, and the courage to carry that betterment forth. I believe you to be more than deserving of the right to be a champion of the League and that of a good person. Let none think otherwise."

"Well look at you with your big speeches. You kind of deserve to be one as well. You went through a lot of sh*t to get here and you are more than skilled enough to stop anyone in your way. I've seen the sort of things you can do on the Rift. They are pretty damn impressive in my opinion as well as many others I have talked to. Seriously, that amount of power is ridiculous."

"You know what happened during the Uebel incident? I annihilated a significant proportion of the Horde force in addition to taking out a Titan class Golem. This power I wield is truly immense."

"Just keep using it when you want to use it, okay? You are definitely strong, Xerath. I know people who have misused that sort of power. It was not pretty in the end."

"I know. And that is why we must not let Syndra misuse hers."

"With the conversations we have, we could just humor her into submission."

"Your ideas are boundless, fitting of a fox."

"And you compensate something with your immense power."

"Are you really going on that?"

"Eunuch getting away from that so easily."

Puns.

Fates damn me.


	25. Chapter 25: Ionia is a strange place

Chapter 25: Ionia remains a strange place.

After a two day journey, the trade cog had reached Yujong.

A lively port city, the resounding sound of working men audible throughout the small valley where it resided. Every day brought a vast quantity of both tourists and residents.

As Ionia's foremost trade port, this level of crowding was to be expected.

The potential to get a well-paid job was high due to the vast coffers of the city being bloated by perhaps one of the best locations to establish a port on the Ionian landmass. The strategic military importance of a defendable island port would always be a significant boost to morale among higher positions in the Ionian military. The sea route to Yujong was surprisingly calm along one strait that stretched from Northern Piltover territory to directly into the bay along a relatively small, fifty kilometer, line known as the Paramount line, named after the strait being key to the protection of incoming aid during the Noxian Invasion several years ago. The last few battles of the invasion were about the acquisition of Yujong, the final push to secure a worthy port after a Kinkou-delivered strike on Noxus' previous landing point, Ji Fan bay, left the area rendered inhospitable through scorched earth tactics. The end result was Noxian forces having to withdraw from the island due to the attrition costing its treasury far too much to support the invasion any further. Noxus still suffered from that war in a different way to Ionia, but Ionia was far more scarred by the invasion than simple poverty.

Yujong had recovered significantly since then thanks to the trade industry. Ex-soldiers and militia were given priority access to job opportunities, reducing the 'unhappiness scale' from a seven to an amazing eight!

Or so said the local council.

* * *

Xerath and Ahri made their way through the crowded streets. Merchants called out to lovely ladies to sample their amazing perfumes made from plants deep in the dangerous forests of primal Ionia, others content with selling confectionaries and market food, while others had earned enough to go down to a local bar and celebrate a business deal. Children ran through the streets laughing, until their mother or caretaker recalled them back from sweet stands. The very air was busy with the sounds of Ionian dialect, an indeed impressive compendium of pronounced vowel usage.

But they had business to attend to.

The two continued on through the dirt path streets and the refurbished wood infrastructure. There was supposed to be another trade convoy set out for Yamanoryu that the Institute had bargained with for transportation.

All they had to do was find it.

* * *

After an hour, they had found the convoy.

It was incredibly small, comprising of a grand total of four horse-drawn carts.

Nothing like the three-dozen loaded wagons during their journey to Glassgown.

"Are you two from the Institute?" A middle-aged Southerner asked, his suspicions from the garbed robes the two wore.

"Yeah, I assume this is the trade convoy we're supposed to meet with?" Ahri replied in Ionian, unsure as to Xerath's understanding of the Ionian language. He had shown no usage of it since he had gotten here. When it got around to getting better and friendlier deals in Ionia, using the island's language was one of the best ways to smooth the process out.

"So who are you two?"

"Ahri, and this guy's-"

"Xerath. I am pleased to meet your acquaintance." Xerath answered in surprisingly good Ionian, albeit a bit choppy and guttural.

"Champions? I thought they would send some Summoners instead."

Was he disappointed?

Perhaps.

"Oh well," the man sighed. "Name's Gue. Been running this here trade convoy since my grandfather passed it down to me. No one knows the path to Yamanoryu better than me and my fellow friends and family."

Xerath looked beyond Gue, finding the man's friends. All of them looked decent with no obvious signs of discomfort. A good sign.

This journey may take a while. Better to make sure now that no inter-party problems would arise.

But none may see the fates by just looking at a single thread.

* * *

The trade convoy trundled along across the dirt road. They had long passed most notions of civilization, bar a few signposts and country houses that were visible in the thick forests of Ionia. Like Ahri had said, nearly every single tree looked the same by mere glances.

But then Xerath saw tiny flickers of light dancing in the fading sun.

Wisps.

The most basic of all magical entities. A concentration of magical energy whose behavior was entirely based on the environment.

So often used for scientific pursuit that many would pay significant sums to acquire them. Thus, capturing said beings were left to licensed Wisp hunters in order to control Wisp depopulation.

It was a pity he could not go and acquire one. The things were absolutely beautiful in their dances when the sun went down. Truly an amazing sight.

Knowing Ahri's absolute adoration for them, by that being the taste of them, he did not wish to show her them. There had been several occasions where Ahri had covertly snuck into the League's Wisp containment room and procured jars of wisps. She had eaten them like when Annie had gotten her hands on a cookie jar.

Wisps were staple food for magical beings, comparable to good bread and water.

Except the raw burst of magic when the wisp membrane peeled off was ecstatically strong.

Not surprising why Ahri loved the taste of them.

"One sec, I just need a piss." Ahri said rather boldly.

Like hell does she need a piss. She obviously wants a wisp or two.

"Ahri."

"Nature's call."

"You aren't going to answer the call, I know that much." Xerath whispered to her as to not draw attention.

"Wh-What do you mean? Everyone needs to go sometimes." Ahri tried to say without smiling awkwardly.

"Wisps."

"Sh*t."

"If are really going to do it, take this as well." Xerath whispered while reaching into his bag.

"Our wisp supply is starting to decay and we need a few fresh ones. I'll need a couple to test Syndra on her magical abilities when we get to her." Xerath pulled out a glass container.

"So you're saying it's fine?"

"Yes, just do it quickly."

Ahri face beamed like the morning sun.

She loved wisps. She really loved them.

Ahri made her way off to the wisp dance. Xerath could see her through the thick underbrush snatching the slow-moving light balls and dragging them into her mouth. He could see her giggling in delight at the sudden burst of energies that flooded into her, occasionally jogging on the spot with eyes closed in the raw pleasure of pure magic.

Her eyes met Xerath, who was unimpressively staring at her.

She pouted for a moment out of the denial of her meal.

Xerath continued to stare at her, no motion coming from him. He just kept on staring.

Rolling her eyes, Ahri undid the container lid and started plucking wisps from the air and started to deposit the fruits of beaming light into the glass.

After the glass container was full, she made her way behind a tree to do some business.

So nature had called her after all.

* * *

After Ahri had returned, with the glass full of wisps thankfully, the convoy set off once again. The past few kilometers had been uneventful, the time passed by conversing with Gue and the other merchants.

Gue was ex-military from the time of the invasion, yet had seen little conflict because of his skill in logistics. That also meant that his fellows had been preyed upon by Zaunic covert operations. His lungs had almost been destroyed after a chemical attack and his chest had been almost been sliced in two.

He was happy now that the war was over and done with. He had never wanted to be a soldier, and was happy just living out the rest of his life being a merchant. His family had backed him up and lived with him now, after Zaunic forces had annihilated their village. He had a son and three daughters, more than enough to pass down the family name. His hatred of Zaun still burned, yet not so much as to be fanatical.

Fanaticism is a horrible curse, the binds of ignorance being so much stronger than the constant lust of knowledge and the paralyzing power of uncensored truth.

His fellow merchants were also ex-military, some of them being less lucky as to face the brute force of the Noxian forces. There were some that had prosthetics or scars across their bodies from the bloody melees that Noxus loved.

Battles with no lines, just the cacophony of steel on plate mail with no rules binding to the attaining prisoners of war. The Crimson Elite would wait like vultures over the battlefield, ready to dive down on any targets of opportunity and either dispatch them or 'acquire' them for questioning.

A simple concept that was significantly harder to put into practice because of Ionia's auxiliaries from Piltover and the threat of dragons in addition to their ranks of military arch-mages. Magic would always be a deciding factor, especially when one side had dominance in the case of Ionia.

Whether Ahri's human form had resulted from magic run amok, that was still to be determined.

* * *

The thick forests had started to dissipate, revealing a small town near the bottom of the valley they had entered. Welcoming lights in the midnight darkness.

"Looks like we're going to make a stop here. Some really strange creatures you do not want to meet appear around this time. I've seen a couple of them, or at least had a glance at their dark hides and the sound of their howls."

"Ionia still remains a land of mystery then?" Xerath questioned in grating Ionian.

"You an old-timer then, Xerath?"

"Indeed I am, I remember when Shurima was still a prosperous land filled with both flora and fauna alike."

"Holy- How long ago was that?"

"Two and a half millennia, or something along those lines. I was cordoned off in a tomb for most of that though."

"In a tomb- You're a dead guy?"

"Technically not, just a different body that has not aged. It is a very long story."

"So what did you do during that time in your tomb?"

"My thoughts ran rampant, as idleness turns all to corruption. I was thankful enough to keep my sanity, yet I have lost so much and this world still remains strange to me."

"The Gods guide you then, I know they have done me a great favor so far."

"I pray hope they continue as well."

* * *

At first light, the trade convoy set off once again. The night had been filled with the sounds of strange creatures indeed, like Gue had said.

In a clearing, two men were facing off against each other surrounded by an audience of mostly women.

It was Master Yi in his sleek glistening steel armor, against what seemed to be a local swordsman.

"MASTER YI!" The swordsman started, "I would like to have my daughter to remain with her family for the moment, not start gallivanting off with a pervert such as you."

"Pervert? My good sir, I would never do such a thing as to even attempt such a behavior. I believe that she should have the option to choose a man that she herself has chosen is all."

"She is my daughter, so I get to choose who she marries! NOW STAND AND FIGHT SO THAT WE MAY END THIS SILLY ARGUMENT!"

"You do realize who I am right? I understand that the League is not well broadcast around here, but even a small understanding of who I am would help you realize that what you are about to do is a poor decision."

"I AM THE STRONGEST AND MOST POWERFUL SWORDSMAN IN THIS ENTIRE VALLEY, YAO TSCHUAN! PREPARE YOURSELF FOR DEATH!"

"Only personal friends may call me that name, and I get the feeling that you are not a friend of mine."

Yi sighed, knowing that he had to put this man down somehow. Of course he knew how to do that, but he wanted to appear epic and awesome.

Oh, how I must always think of dramatics.

"Ready yourself then, brute." Yi said briefly, hand by his imposing Wuju-forged blade.

"**YAAAAARRRRGGGH!"** Yao started as he picked up his pace, quickly turning into a run at Yi with his own monstrous two-handed great sword ready to bear down upon Yi's lithe form.

Light suddenly distorted as Yi's blade shone with the ancient power of Wuju. The blade appeared to phase out, each movement leaving an after image of it's spectacular shining grace.

Rotating his blade in front of him in what seemed a life-time, Yi appeared motionless and void of time itself, uncaring as to the monstrous man running with blade at hand directly towards him.

In the blink of an eye, Yi swung his blade back and began his pounce. The very air sung as his blade and body turned into one single flash of light. The flash flittered like a fly caught in a glass bowl, surging towards Yao with immense ferocity.

Yi gracefully returned from his phase distortion, skidding across the grass to a stop.

"Annoying brute." He audibly whispered.

Yi slowly slid his blade back into its sheath.

* * *

Chink.

* * *

Yao's immense sword fractured like glass.

The man's clothes suddenly turned into actual ribbons that flew off from his body in a rather spectacular fashion, leaving the man stark naked.

Meanwhile, Yi turned to Yao's daughter, holding his hand out to his side.

A small bouquet of flowers elegantly sailed downwards from his strike, directly into his outstretched hand.

Presenting it to the girl, she immediately wrapped her arms around him in joy from having freedom from her oppressive family and being able to live with her hero.

"YOU B*STARD! GET OVER HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A REAL MAN NOW! I WILL NOT BE SUBJECT TO THIS HUMILIATION!" The monster behind him cried, wanting a real fight, not these weird magic spells.

"I've trained a monkey to be an expert in the Wuju arts, and you appear to be less than one. Know your place, lumbering beast." Yi replied without even looking at the man.

"FINE! I'LL CRUSH YOU WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS LIKE THE WEAK RUNT YOU ARE!"

"Must I really resort to teaching you a proper lesson? Very well then."

Yi drew his blade in the blink of an eye, spinning around and slicing the air in front of the behemoth.

"WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE A WARNING? HA! THOSE WEAK TRICKS WILL NOT SAVE YOU, MASTER OF WUJU!"

"That was no warning." Yi replied softly, once more sheathing his blade.

* * *

Chink.

* * *

Blood flew from the man's lower parts in a gruesome manner.

Even Xerath had to shrug away from the sight of what humiliation Yi had made the man endure.

That area was already an area of mutual agreement of what not to destroy for an honorable, male, opponent.

But Yi had just surgically removed it.

Yao was holding what remained, his voice reaching the pitch of Annie's irritating vocals from the sheer pain of striking that region.

Even the strongest men in the crowd swiftly moved their hands down in order to confirm the continued existence of their parts.

No sane man would even consider aiming for there.

"Holy sh*t, Yi can be really scary." Ahri's voice commented.

Xerath looked over at Ahri who was completely shocked by this turn of events.

"Y-You do not go there, ever. Even I wouldn't go that far. I've seen enough memories to know that sort of pain. I've never really seen it happen myself, but that is the ultimate form of torture a man can go. It's just so… devastating."

"Thankfully I will never have that pain in the rest of my life."

"Huh?- You sunova- you beat me to it."

"I deny you this time."

"Mou…" Ahri moaned unhappily.

"Ah! Is that Ahri and Xerath I spy? It looks so! How have you two been?" Yi declared as he began approaching the convoy.

"Shocked by your rather powerful lesson. Other than that, we are on Institute business at the moment." Ahri quickly replied.

"I know what the mission is, it is fine. But I do have some information to pass on."

Yi cleared his throat with a brief cough.

"A queen is crowned, the crest of Ionia falls low, as doom roars triumph."

"Sounds like some prophecy to me." Ahri began.

"That is because it is. It's a prophecy going around in the Council. Most people I know understand that it is focused on the Sovereign, but the remaining factors remain a mystery. You mind keeping an eye out? This prophecy is dire indeed for all of Ionia, potentially even the world itself."

"Noted. By the way, those were some impressive moves back there."

"Your compliment is well received, Xerath. I always try to be… an inspiration to others."

"You take any good pictures with those goggles you wear?"

"These? These are just for reading scrolls." Yi said defensively.

"I'm a magician, I know when you are taking pictures with those goggles of yours. Find any good breasts recently?"

"Nononono. I would not stoop to such a low level. Never would I do such a thing."

"I know your tastes, Yi. It is fairly obvious when you activate them."

"Wha- I have never done such a thing-"

"Yi." Ahri started.

Yi looked over to Ahri's fabulous body.

Quick picture to save for later.

Ahri was smiling.

But why was she balancing a small blue foxfire on her index finder?

"Do you want to remain potent?" She asked.

Potent.

Yi's eyes opened wide behind his goggles.

She is going to do something to my own parts, isn't she.

Stay calm, stay calm. Maybe I can talk her out of this.

"A-"

"You are looking rather pale now, Yi." Xerath interjected, trying to make the most fun out of this situation.

You b*stard! You are having fun putting me in the spotlight, aren't you?

"He's taken one so far, you going to let him continue?" Xerath said.

YOU SONUVA! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE A MAN BE DAMNIT!

"Yi."

Yi jumped slightly at Ahri's serious tone.

"If you want to submit now and get it over and done with,"

The small flame blazed white-hot.

"Remove your pants."

Sh*t.

In a quick motion, Yi suddenly darted off across the valley at an unimaginable speed, leaving Yao's daughter behind and instead focusing on his own survival and the survival of his potential children.

"YOU AREN'T CATCHING ME YET!" He cried.

Ahri burst out laughing and continued to do so for five minutes straight.

Even Xerath tagged along with her laughter.

She is pretty funny, I guess.


	26. Chapter 26: The Summoners will hate me

Chapter 26: The Summoners will hate me for what has been done.

The trade convoy continued on its way to Yamanoryu, yet the landscape's scene almost stayed constant with the thick forest canopy blotting out almost all light, save for a few glimmers through the vast quantities of bamboo leaves. Xerath was told that the road ahead was not long, barely even two days of travel. That was good. Xerath wanted to look around in Yamanoryu for the purpose of personal interest. Ionian culture was indeed a very interesting one, the South being united in purpose as the Noxian Invasion had targeted the high commerce and accessible region as the stepping stones than the small and rough terrain of the North where their immense military force could fight on even ground than have to focus on clearing every mountain range for enemy forces. Meanwhile, the Far North still was loosely separated into clan warfare on petty rivalries and the rest of the North was populated with bandits in every known kilometer of land.

Not that a bunch of mere bandits could stand against Ahri and I.

The League was more than just honing the skills you started with.

It granted insight into the thoughts of others and thus the ability to predict key movements among sane opponents. All champions were taught the basic principles of all manner of weaponry, from swords and axes to bows and rifles. Even the basics of hand-to-hand combat were taught to aid in reducing damage from martial art practitioners. Xerath had faced enough fights against the monk Lee Sin to know that the knowledge only reduced damage, not granting immunity.

But the knowledge was enough to break free from melee and give distance to mages who preferred longer ranged engagements. That had saved him multiple times on the Rift from would-be assassins, to then cast them down in his devastating barrages.

* * *

Ahri was casually propped up against the side of the wagon opposite of him.

She seemed to be incredibly bored in his eyes, staring up into the tree canopy with no thoughts swimming through her mind.

"You alright?" Xerath asked, trying to get some form of conversation going to draw her mind into the present.

"Yeah, just thinking. There hasn't been much to do recently, so I've resorted to thinking."

"Uncommon for you. You usually are the star of your little friend group."

"Well that's because most of them will laugh at anything even remotely funny for half an hour and talk about small things. I prefer the grander jokes that not just anyone can make up and take just slightly more time to… perfect. Can't always make good jokes around people especially when you are the only one to have read Ionian comics and make indirect references to them. It really is hard sometimes being a comedian."

"References? And I thought you were good enough to come up with all of those in your head."

"Like I said, they have very basic senses of humor. Takes them about a minute to get just one of my 'decent' jokes, to which one of them cries out what I mean. After that, they all just laugh out loud because the guy said it in a more humorous tone."

"That f**king Ezreal really pisses me off sometimes." Ahri whispered, commenting on the Explorer's lack of humorous content while ripping off her own.

"At least yours have been better than Diana's. How that woman does it is beyond me."

"With you, it is slightly different because you understand subtle nuances and such, but with them, some of them can't even figure out a simple word play. Caitlyn especially. She can barely make a joke and the way she laughs so hard after she gets one is almost surreal." Ahri continued.

Ahri sighed and regained her composure.

"This journey with you has actually been pretty fun to be honest."

"I agree with you. It has been a long time since I have been able to talk like we do now, making poor and heavily contextual jokes that few else would laugh at."

"You did this sort of thing with Tabia?"

"Indeed so. The two of us could banter on for hours in the academy when there was nothing else to do. Those times were incredibly fun."

"Do I really seem like Tabia to you?"

"You have several traits that remind me of her. You act immature and mischievous, yet surprisingly mature and thoughtful of others when it comes down to hard times."

"Thanks, I guess. Some women might think that pretty pathetic of you though."

"How so?"

"Well… It just sounds like you haven't gotten over the past and stuff. You look for a woman with similar qualities to your oldest friend and you have found no one else as being that attractive unless she has those attributes."

"I am not the ordinary case. What happened to Tabia in the end could well have been traumatic to have your friend die so easily from something that you should have been able to control."

"But I still find it kind of cute."

…

What.

…

"You are calling the being who turned the world order on its head, cute?"

"I consider the behavior cute, not you per se. You do, however, understand my past and my jabs of humor at you. It's been a fun thing to be able to do this sort of thing on an excessively long mission. It's better than just keeping to yourself while your partner just stares at your body like a teenager who just found out that people actually make dirty novels like the Lusty Dragon Maid. Seriously, that sh*t exists and it is weird as hell."

"I am glad to know you find me… entertaining at least. That last bit though, I would rather not have heard that."

"Deal with it. There is some weird stuff out there that only Ionian shops sell. You do not want to see what sort of things some people make up. Found some stuff of me and tentacles." Ahri shivered from the very thought of that horrible comic she had found.

* * *

In the distance, there was a strange crack of snapping bamboo.

"You hear that?" Ahri immediately picking up on the sound, her fox ears scanning to pinpoint where it came from.

"Hmm?"

Suddenly, the snapping grew fierce, as if something large knew that it's stealth was busted. And the noise was only getting closer.

It was heading straight for the convoy!

"Xerath, get out of the cart now!" Ahri cried, swiftly exiting the cart and clearing her way out.

Xerath vaulted over the side of the cart, only to be swept of his feet by some immense force as he heard the crack of the wooden cart and the scream of its passengers who were too slow to realize the danger they were in.

He fell hard on the ground, completely stunned by the impact.

* * *

Ahri had managed to clear out of the beast's way just in time.

A massive serpentine reptile, camouflaged in the underbrush by a thick, scaly emerald hide. A massive neck held its foreboding square head in place, two long horns protruding from the back of its head. It's massive legs stuck out from it's sides, all four of them ending with massive taloned claws.

This thing was an Ionian Forest Drake, one of the most potent hunters that Ionia harbored in its borders and could easily compete for one of the most efficient predators in the entirety of Valoran.

And it's got us in its sights.

Sh*t.

The convoy guards quickly formed up on the drake with spears in hand.

The drake recoiled as the metal barbs blocked its path, only to quickly find a way around such a defense.

In the blink of an eye, the drake spun around to cleave the guards with its monstrous tail, sending all of them flying. It quickly turned its head quizzically at the rest of the quivering merchants before crying a roar of excitement at helpless prey. The drake surged towards another cart and sent the contents flying, snatching food in its reptilian jaws before swallowing it whole. That which it could not eat whole was ripped apart by its talons and subsequently devoured.

A blast of arcane fire wracked against its flank, causing the beast to cry out in agony.

It swooped its head around to see who had dared attack it while it was eating.

It was Ahri, who had just done something really stupid.

Get its attention.

"Hey sh*thead! I'm over here! Come get me!" Ahri cried, trying to save the scurrying merchants.

A brave thought, but bravery could well be mistaken for stupidity.

The drake charged at her.

In a burst of dazzling light, Ahri propelled herself out of its rampage while sending a fusillade of cerulean fire against its flank.

The drake barreled over as its side burned from the immense flurry of arcane flame. It roared for a moment, yet once it inspected the minimal damage, it quickly righted itself and sized up Ahri.

It was actually thinking!

F**k this drake!

It's probably found out a way to get me.

The drake suggested some recollection of courage. It reared its head high, acting as if something was coming up from its throat.

A breath attack?

F**K!

Ahri cleared its intended firing arc in another blazing dazzle of light, once again firing off a fusillade of projectiles at the drake.

The drake swooped across the ground lithely, still holding it's mouth shut with smoke spiraling from under a small gap in its lip. The fusillade of magic glanced off its armored scales while it brought its massive tail around to strike out at Ahri.

Ahri saw it coming, yet she knew that her momentum could not be stopped. Gathering energy, she projected a protective barrier in front of her.

The tail smashed against the shield in a crackle of magic, sending her flying directly into the bamboo forest.

Ahri quickly directed the shield's power to prevent her back from cracking across the bamboo shafts. The strike from the drake's tail had damaged her, yet she continued on. She needed to, lest be killed by this monster in such a brutish manner.

But that thing had just set something up.

The drake leveled its head directly at her, throat warped by the concoction that brewed inside it.

F**k.

A thick mist of poison flooded the air around her.

* * *

Xerath managed to get a glimpse of Ahri being propelled into the forest, shortly followed by the beast's breath attack. He quickly righted himself to try in hopes of eliminating the creature.

The beast's experience with this magician had tired it. It just wanted to feast. Enough with these humans with their metal and magic.

The monster quickly swooping its head around to the fleeing humans, launching its breath attack once more.

Men and women stopped in their tracks, choking on the thick green mist. Staggering for a brief moment, every one of them fell to the ground with no signs of further movement.

Xerath was ready for the beast, charging his own power. He needed to eliminate the thing before it could do any more damage.

Bringing forth immense energy from his inner being, he began channeling his spell.

* * *

The beast felt the magical signature, a similar energy to what that other human had called forth. But now this one was significantly stronger. This one was dangerous.

Triangulating the magic, it found the bearer of such energies.

It was staring directly at it with that bottomless pyre of its eyes.

It seemed, angry.

It mattered not.

The drake needed to remove the threat before it could unleash its powers.

It will feast well this day.

The beast surged towards Xerath, mouth open to completely swallow him whole.

"COME MEET YOUR DOOM, BEAST!" he cried, unleashing a cacophonous burst of energy that burnt the very air itself.

The pulse met the beast head on, rapidly obliterating the beast's scales and annihilating its innards. The beast reared at the immense pain flooding through its system. The massive lance of energy spit and crackled in a myriad of colors across the beast's body.

Xerath continued to fuel the furnace that raged inside the creature, only stopping once the beast's torso had been charred black and the beast squirmed no more.

He had burned a large hole into the beast's stomach, the cauterized wound completely sealed.

Even still, only the scales that had faced the brunt of his lance had been pierced. The rest of the creature was still intact, apart from the blackened insides that were still hot from his onslaught.

His lance had not even managed to pierce the other side of the beast.

Whatever this thing was, its hide was ridiculously resistant to flame. Was it capable of even taking down dragons?

Wait.

"AHRI!" Xerath cried, desperately trying to find out where his partner was.

* * *

Xerath searched through the debris where Ahri had been sent flying. The green mist was still present, sending a small stinging pain through him.

There was no way that this could affect my being surely?

But it was.

Is this fog reactive to magic?

The fog had also burned the grass as well.

A strong acid as well?

Perhaps it is a two, perhaps even three part poison.

The actual poison itself could stagger the foes with a drugging effect. The secondary acidic conditions could also act as a catalyst or reactive agent against biological tissue and reactive metals. The final part might then react with magic to weaken even the strongest magician.

That creature is by far the most dangerous creature I have ever come across by a significant margin.

It had intelligence, size, sharp and powerful claws, incredible speed, a hide that could ward off any magic weaker than an arch-mage spell and a poison that could bring low any foe.

Ionia sure could produce dangerous beasts.

* * *

After another minute of searching, he found where Ahri had landed.

She was curled up into a ball to protect herself from the mist.

Xerath ran towards her, warding off the mist with a quick incantation.

He moved his hands around her form and tried to ascertain the situation she was in.

She was still breathing, yet she was panting for breath.

The runic systems of the League's toxin wards were doing their work, expelling and neutralizing the poison. But the wards would not be able to remove the entirety of the toxin while Ahri bathed in the fumes.

Generating a small pocket of heat, he dispersed the air and the airborne poison around her.

Her condition swiftly improved and her eyes opened up.

"Hi." Ahri smiled weakly.

"Hello."

"You mind if I… borrow, a bit of energy." She asked faintly.

"What do you mean by tha-"

Ahri rapidly pressed her lips against his faceplate, trying to kiss him if he still had a mouth.

What was she doing?

This was no time for romantics!

Wait.

Xerath felt a change in his power current, concentrated around the place where her lips met him.

She did want energy from him. The method was fairly questionable though.

I see.

But there was something else.

The current was being drawn back in to the Catenas.

Not good.

The sheer hunger of the Chains would be more than enough to suck every last drop of Ahri's magic inside, snuffing her life out like a candle in a vacuum.

Ahri's grip on him was starting to falter, her arms growing tired of their resistance to slumber.

Xerath called forth more energy from his being, denying the Catenas of Ahri's magic and forcing the power transfer in favor of Ahri.

Ahri squirmed slightly beneath him as she felt the energy slowly flow into her.

Xerath held her closer to stop the exchange from faltering between the two of them.

He felt his thoughts warm with the thought of helping her.

He felt Ahri's thoughts swim with his own.

Thoughts of intense fear and need.

She was incredibly scared.

But I am here, watching over her.

I will not allow fear to cloud the minds of my friends.

I will not allow a friend to die in my arms.

I have power. Immense power!

Death shall not win this day!

* * *

Ahri's withdrew from his lips, smiling that lustrous smile of hope.

"You liked that, didn't you?" Her voice was taxed and quiet from the powerful toxin that remained in her.

"Perhaps I did." Xerath lowered his tone to match hers.

"Hehe, don't let this go to your head, okay?" Ahri smirked.

"Well I am a eunuch. I don't think it would matter that much to you."

"Yeah, guess it wouldn't." Ahri panted slightly. "I'm going for a short nap, okay?"

"You realize that if you die on me, then I will never forgive you."

"This isn't that bad, I just need a little rest. These anti-toxin wards do take a lot of energy out of me. Then again, if they did improve these wards anymore, Teemo and Cassy would be pretty much useless on the Rift now." Ahri joked before resting her head against his chest.

"Thanks." Ahri whispered.

"Don't mention it."

Ahri smirked once more before her eyes grew heavy, sleep quickly taking hold of her.

Within a minute, she had fallen under its spell.

Xerath stayed by her side, cradling her in his arms.

He had not once seen the fox as she was now, completely helpless and completely open. Her breath was slow and steady, completely at peace with no worries clouding her mind. Her body was almost perfectly still, save for the slight movements of her chest rising and falling as she breathed in and out in perfect tempo.

She seemed so weak and frail in her current state compared to how she was on the Rift.

But she had not changed at all.

She had always been like this.

Her undeniable magical strength and agility in battle and her mischievous, witty personality stopped everyone from seeing her actual form.

A beautiful and fragile girl, like a flower in the wind.

I will not allow this flower to just be knocked aside. Not after she won my friendship.

Xerath continued his vigilance, scanning for any signs of human civilization. There was nothing his arcane sight could see as to any human life in the immediate area. The rest of the merchants were dead, killed by the beast that had hunted them.

Xerath sighed.

So long, Gue.

* * *

The beat of massive wings filled the air. The bamboo waxed and waned in the ensuing typhoon.

Xerath curled over, protecting Ahri from the immense blasts of air with his body.

He heard the massive thud of a truly massive creature land on the ground.

A dragon?

Most likely.

Let's hope it is friendly.

"**WIELDER OF ARCANA, SHOW THINESELF! I DEMAND THOU TO REVEAL THEE AT ONCE!**" A monstrous grandeur voice called out.

Perhaps not.

Xerath slowly set Ahri's resting body down on the ground, making sure that she was not disturbed. But if she were to be disturbed, then it would be by this dragon.

Xerath primed himself, calling forth his power. If that beast he had faced could ward off one of his spells, then this new potential threat could well do the same.

He unbuttoned his negatron-dampening cloak and slowly placed it over Ahri to guard against any collateral magic that may strike at her.

He flexed himself.

If the beast had any sort of magical connection, then it should have sensed me by now.

"WE ARE UNDER ORDERS FROM THE INSTITUTE OF WAR! UNDER ARTICLE 67, WE HAVE A RIGHT TO EXPLAIN OURSELVES BEFORE YOU!" Xerath cried out to determine the nature of this new opponent.

"**FROM THE INSTITUTION OF WAR YOU HAIL? VERY WELL. I WISH TO MEET THEE. COME HITHER SO I MAY SENSE WITH SIGHT, NOT HEAR A MERE VOICE.**" The voice replied, confident in the presence of the Institute to have a good explanation.

Xerath turned around to Ahri, who still slept quietly under the blanket he had lent her. She would be fine. Good.

Confirming Ahri's condition, Xerath walked towards where the voice called out.

* * *

After a minute's walk, he had returned to the destroyed convoy.

There were still the corpses of the men and that of the beast he had felled, in addition to the scattered cargo and goods.

But there was a newcomer to the scene.

A truly gargantuan dragon, its head reaching up to the very top of the bamboo stalks.

Its torso spanned the full road in width, easily twenty meters of pure dragon mass.

Each of the dark brown scales of its hide was almost a full plate-mail armor that a child might be fitted for.

Slowly, it stretched its massive head in the direction of Xerath, trying to get a closer look at the owner of the voice it had heard.

"**BY THIS BLOOD THAT COURSES THROUGH MINE VEINS, THIS POWER! I REMEMBER THINE ENERGY, MAGE. THOU IST THE ONE WHO RENT THE WORLD APART! WHAT IST THOU DOING IN MINE LANDS?**" The dragon declared in its epic booming voice.

"My name is Xerath. I have been sent by the Institute to inquire into the Dark Sovereign." Xerath introduced himself in addition to his mission.

If this dragon knew of the Institute, then it would most likely understand the pressing matter of the mission he had volunteered for.

Although it did not need to know the last part of that.

"Might I ask what do you mean by 'the one who rent the world apart'? What do you know of me?"

"**When I was but a mere hatchling, there was a monstrous storm of arcana to the west. A storm beyond the comprehension of the Elder Dragons of the time, even being indescribable by the Ancient Dragon Scrolls, holders of knowledge from timeless eons. That storm destroyed the Ancient Shuriman Empire, whose destruction removed the order of the very world itself.**"

"You were around during my Ascension? Do you know what happened to me?"

"**Dost thou not remember thine own past?**"

"Only small memories. I was locked away for two and a half millennia, with only my mind left to wonder what happened to the world outside."

"**Very well. What business do you seek in this here land?**"

"I seek transport to Yamanoryu with my companion. Are you able to get us there?"

"**You speak with the Elder Dragon, Myuin, the Torch of the Mountain of Dragons! I far than qualify to deliver thou unto our city.**"

Myuin searched around for a moment.

"**Thine partner, where ist he?**"

"She was badly hurt in a battle by that beast over there," Xerath pointed over to the Ionian Forest Drake that lay dead in the road, steam still fuming from its corpse.

"**An Ionian Forest Drake? It surprised I that one should be able to fell such a foe. To even a young Dragon, those beasts are a potent foe, easily capable of killing one of our own with only small effort. Even I have had trouble killing just one.**"

"I managed to kill the beast in its charge, but not after my partner had taken significant damage."

"**There are ways to remove the toxins of the Drake's Breath in the Mountain of Dragons, but we must leave with due haste! Lest she not wake from that endless sleep.**"

"I will get her, be ready to depart immediately when I return."

"**Act swiftly, Xerath.**"

Xerath ran into the hole that had been made by Ahri's shield.

* * *

He found Ahri still sleeping by the bamboo shaft where he had laid her down.

She looked so peaceful beneath his cloak.

But now was not the time for such thoughts.

Xerath needed to get her to Yamanoryu immediately.

Carefully cradling her in his arms, Xerath picked her up slowly as to not disturb her.

She was still breathing softly, with no signs of poor condition.

She was doing well to survive this long if Myuin was right about the Drake's poisonous breath.

Xerath turned, walking back out towards the convoy with Ahri's form clinging to him like a child.

I should not say anything about this to any Summoner.

Who knows what sort of sh*t they may come up with between the two of us.


	27. Chapter 27: Misunderstandings

Chapter 27: Misunderstandings can be very entertaining.

Riding in Myuin's claw had been a rough journey.

The Elder did not enjoy the thought of being ridden, but he was at ease with the thought of carrying Xerath and Ahri in his monstrous talons to the Great City of Yamanoryu.

Myuin did not have much knowledge of a smooth ride for a human, his mighty wing-beats swooping his form up and down by several meters. The sudden changes in momentum were incredibly annoying to deal with.

But that time was past.

Ahri was being treated now.

After a few hours, the doctor emerged.

"She'll be fine. I've worked with Forest Drake toxin before, nasty stuff, but with the proper equipment it is fairly easy to remove from the body. The stuff is fairly pronounced in its effects, so a carefully constructed combination of drugs is enough to stop it. We were taking so long because the current version of the medicine is hard to test because of how hard it is to get a living and stable person to the hospital before the toxin takes them. She should be fine to walk around, but I do want to do a couple tests tomorrow and perhaps another test in a few days just to check up on her and the state of the drugs. Other than that, she is completely fine and should be able to battle on Summoner's Rift very soon."

"Thank you. We have some business in the area so the two of us should be around the next few days."

"That's good then. Oh, by the way, do you mind signing an autograph for my son? He freaking loves the League and all of the matches that get broadcasted here. For him to know that his Dad managed to get an autograph from a champion would be a dream come true."

"Interesting, I will take up that offer. Might I ask who are his favorites?"

"Caitlyn and Jarvan the Fourth."

"Do I factor into the mix?"

"Sadly no. Something about having no mobility."

"Okay." Xerath said quietly, defeated by mere preference.

Damn them and their ability to dash through thick walls.

* * *

"Alright, you can come in." Ahri called from behind the door.

Xerath slid back the traditional Ionian wooden frame doors, revealing an absolutely stunning sight before him.

It was Ahri, clothed in an outstandingly beautiful Ionian gown. Her hair was bundled away into a small bun, held by an exquisite metal trident. It was slightly more… presentable to a formal meeting than her usual attire of that red dress that showed off an enticingly amount of cleavage and left her legs mostly exposed.

Ahri's eyebrow suddenly rose up from its original position.

"You like it?"

"It's better than your usual attire."

Ahri's face scrunched up into a wicked smile for a split second in light of the comment.

"I believe it suits you. It makes you look intellectual and beautiful in a more classical sense. And you know my thoughts on the classics."

Ahri chuckled.

"Well I do kind of like it. Definitely warmer than my other stuff, that's for sure. Also I don't have to worry about my tails getting in my way."

After quickly fidgeting near the back of the gown, Ahri turned her back on Xerath, showing how her tails fit through a small incision in the fabric.

If anyone else found that incision without context, then that could really make things awkward.

Lightly swinging her hips, she showed how the pure white fur danced in tandem. Those things could easily mesmerize any man.

Perhaps I have already been mesmerized myself.

"So we have that thing with Myuin?" Ahri asked.

"Indeed we do. We should set off soon."

"Know what it's about?"

"He may want to talk with me about my past, but I think it's more about him offering up disciples to train. I've heard things about Ionian martial arts schools often asking for the League to include this amazing local hero, most of which have been unsuccessful."

"So they get in contact with one of the Champions and offer a local hero to them as a disciple. I know that as well. 'But my son is an incredible bladesman!', they say when Master Yi shamed a local hero by removing his jewels with no effort at all."

"That is Master Yi though, a thorough bred Ionian who does not take everyone to be a student."

"Apart from a monkey."

"Yeah… I wonder what was going through Yi's head when he made Wukong his disciple."

"Wukong can summon clones of himself through some weird martial art sh*t. Knowing Yi's adoration of women, he could very well steal certain 'items' from a locker room or clothes drawer."

"That… actually makes some weird sort of sense."

"Guess so. Mage Xerath, do you wish to escort me to our meeting with the dragon?" Ahri said in a mocking regal tone, obviously trying to make fun of Myuin's rather old way of talking.

"My Lady Ahri, it would be an honor." Xerath replied, going along with the joke.

* * *

A column of armored soldiers escorted the two to Myuin's cave dwelling that had been carved into the mountain that gave Yamanoryu its name.

The immense corridors that Xerath walked through was clearly made for dragons for there was no way that man could so easily have tunneled through stone like this in ages past without immense effort, yet the walls were lined with the marks of immense claws from eons ago. Not to mention that the corridors spanned twenty-five meters from each side.

An entire army could fit in here, Xerath thought.

They continued on until the corridor opened out into a monstrous dwelling that could very well compete with the Noxian Coliseum in the sheer size of it.

Myuin was lounging on a massive bed of stone, surrounded by human servants that buzzed around him. Two other groups were also present by his side, one group a conglomerate of officials in heavy formal robes, the other a small gathering of what appeared to be warriors in combat armor.

"**LADY AHRI! MAGE XERATH! I welcome thou to this gathering. As is tradition in Ionia, the Yamanoryu Council and I, the Torch of the Mountain, Myuin, wish to extend a welcoming gift of a disciple to aid thou in thine cause.**"

Knew it.

They are going to try to get a local hero to spy on us and establish a foothold to boast about their ties to a Champion.

Damn them.

Guess I'll just have to go through with this and see if even one of them is worthy.

A very quick scan of the arcane spectra showed only one good candidate.

A young swordsman whose power glistened like that of a candle.

"Think that one is good? If anything, it is better to get this over and done with." Xerath whispered to Ahri, briefly pointing at the boy when he wasn't looking to make sure that it was kept relatively discrete.

"I guess so, he's the only person who even has a shred of magical ability here. Half of them are just brutes with a weapon to compensate for the size of their brain, and their parts. Check him out in a duel or something, he could very well be a completely naïve idiot who was no idea what to do in battle."

"Alright then."

"**Please take your time to search through these brave and strong warriors. Each of them is a warrior beyond the merit of even I, the Torch of the Mountain! I believe that the League will take great interest of these immaculate citizens.**"

Xerath paced back and forth in front of the phalanx of intense soldiers, bred from the very heart of Ionia and forged in fires beyond any normal man's capability. But it was all just to seem considerate.

His decision on the candidate had already been made when he saw the swordsman who wielded the art of the arcane. To focus on the man alone was stupid, but his demeanor was far less intimidating than the others, a key point when it came to finally meeting Syndra. If their disciple were to suddenly unleash their emotions on Syndra, then all negotiations would break down and his chance to save her would slip away by some defensive thoughts of a Neanderthal.

After a short amount of time, Xerath picked the swordsman out.

"What is your name?"

"Yamoto, my Lord."

He greets me like Azel did.

At least I know how I can deal with this one.

Making constant fun of him.

Ahri might like that idea as well.

"Might I ask you to show me your skill?"

"I would be most pleased, my Lord."

"Then you may duel me. Attack me in one single strike."

"As you wish my Lord."

The young man grasped the sheath of the curved long sword. His black and unkempt hair wafted in an oncoming draft from an opening that peered out over the mountain, his body completely calm.

A bright dazzle of light glistened from his blade as he drew it.

Two illusionary comrades appeared by his side, ready by their master.

Xerath removed his cloak and boots, showing his true form to the crowd before him.

Yamoto's eyes opened slightly in shock, but the rest of his body remained perfectly still like the sentinels by his side.

Xerath readied his magic, making it as obvious as he could to make a point that he was not to be taken lightly.

The air crackled with Xerath's incredible power, even lifting small grains of rock up from the floor.

In a sudden flash of intense light, Yamoto began his attack.

The light was blinding to Xerath and all onlookers, but Xerath could still see Yamoto's form and that of his illusions that were dashing towards him at an incredible speed.

Within an instant, three magical signatures surrounded him.

One coming down upon him from his right, another coming up in a sweeping motion to the left, the final figure coming right at his back.

I have only a second to do something.

Which one is the real one?

Perhaps all three are fakes?

I sense no other signatures, so the one coming from behind me is most likely the real one.

I know how to deal with this now.

* * *

Xerath generated a sharp blast of energy out from his body.

He could sense the magical essence of the two coming from his sides immediately dissipate from the sudden jolt of magic destabilizing the illusions.

That only left the one behind him.

It had only been scratched by his blast.

It had flinched slightly, but it was still pressing onwards to strike Xerath.

This is the real Yamoto no doubt.

He has shown me enough.

* * *

His sword could very well pierce the Lord's back.

It would only take one more second for the blade to reach him.

His Lord had removed his Sentinels rather surprisingly.

He had felt the blast of magical energy rupture and distort their forms so they could not function.

This attack was supposed to be his masterpiece, yet his Lordship had so easily figured out what was happening and acted quicker than any other opponent he had faced.

His Lordship was without a doubt a Champion of the League.

It was an honor to face off against such a strong opponent.

He felt a feeling of pride that left him open for a mere second.

A sudden crackle of energy sparked inside him.

His body's momentum changed rapidly, his vision fading out.

* * *

Xerath had struck out at Yamoto with his Mage Chains.

Or rather he had detonated them.

He had already placed a smaller Chain curse upon him when his blade had first summoned those illusions.

Xerath had proceeded to bide his time, slowly amplifying the strength of the Chain curse until it finally reached a level enough to knock Yamoto out for a short time.

He knew that Yamoto was buying time to plan his attack and meditate.

That was his mistake.

To leave himself open against a Mage.

The detonating burst had been delayed slightly due to a lag in the Chain curse system that primed itself a short duration after the triggering spell had been cast.

I need to remove that delay one of these days.

Either way, Yamoto showed promise.

* * *

The entire duel had lasted less than five seconds.

The light faded, revealing Yamoto being flung aside completely unconscious while Xerath had remained motionless.

It looked like Xerath had completely and utterly destroyed Yamoto's chance of even being considered as a disciple.

There were so many better options that were significantly stronger than this country boy. He was sprawled out pathetically on the ground, a useless waste of the time of his master had granted him. Nothing more than a brat who thought he could even stand a chance of gaining entrance to the League.

So thought Myuin and the Council of the Mountain as well as the other warriors who were beyond irritated that the runt had been called forward.

"I choose Yamoto as my disciple." Xerath declared. "He has proven himself to be an interesting asset. I wish him to accompany Lady Ahri and myself during our stay."

**THIS MAN DARES CONSIDER THIS RUNT WORTHY?**

**WHAT SORT OF FOOL IS HE?**

"I have chosen him on grounds of magical potential. Look to your comrades and ask do they have the same gift as Yamoto has? For they do not possess the same arcane talent as Yamoto does. Lady Ahri and I are both mages, practitioners of the arcane. It suits us that we may have another to add to our ranks instead of another warrior who has no knowledge into the power that magic wields."

Ahri smirked, knowing how stupid Xerath seemed to the crowd of people by defying their expectations.

It was always entertaining how idiots get their pride completely removed, their silence and surprise was funny to watch sometimes.

* * *

The two had returned to their sizeable accommodation with Yamoto's unconscious body in tow.

Their involvement with the Institute had granted them the luxury of having a decent house for their stay, with several separate rooms and one of those serene gardens that Ionian Elders could fuss over for hours on the tidiness of the grass or having a few twigs land in a wrong place.

Xerath laid Yamoto down on the bed carefully, the man still knocked out by his Mage Chains.

This guy is pretty weak, being knocked out for so long by such a small amount of power. Needs to toughen up a bit and make his moves less obvious.

He could indeed be a very strong opponent given time.

At least to martial artists.

"Hey Xerath, you mind coming over here?"

"What is it?" Xerath said, looking through to Ahri's room.

"I've been thinking about a couple things." Ahri fiddled with her index fingers.

"And those things are?"

"Well, you kind of helped me quite a lot the past couple of days, so… I kind of want to give you something of a reward."

"Like what?"

* * *

Yamoto's vision returned to him from his slumber.

There was a ceiling above him.

Had he been moved?

Looks like it.

But to where?

Had Lady Ahri and Lord Xerath taken him in?

Or had they rejected him?

Where the hell am I?

There was a small squeak from the other room.

A human squeak at a moment of pleasure.

"I have not even started yet."

That was Lord Xerath's voice. What the hell is going on?

"Your crystal hands are cold and hard. Not exactly the softest things in the world, you know."

Lady Ahri?

This is bad. I should not be here!

"Oh yeah, right there. Ooo-ooh, that feels sooo damn good."

"You like this?"

"Oh yeah, right th- Ahahaha! Yeeeheaheaheaheas!"

Wh-Wh-What the hell is this!

I-I-I-I should not listen to this! The-They need their alone time for sure! Ye-Yeah, I'll just walk around a little bit and leave them in peace.

"So am I doing a good job?"

"I've had better, but you are one of the few who I've allowed to touch there. Sona is at the top at the moment. The way she does it is just incredible! Her fingers are just so soft and warm that it makes me feel as if I'm in heaven!"

THE FAIR MAIDEN SONA BUVELLE!

WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING!

"You have not lived until you have been touched there by those delicate fingers."

"You do realize that I do not possess this area, nor have I ever?"

"Well… She could service… other… areas."

"You are insinuating something dirty right now aren't you?"

"I could be, isn't that right Yamoto?"

WHAT…

THE…

F**K!

"M-M-My apologies for e-e-e-eavesdropping! I-I did not mean to interrupt your private time."

"Private… Time…" Xerath started, questioning the meaning of those two words.

"BY THE FATES! You set this up, didn't you?"

"Hehehehehehe." Ahri laughed, her glorious plan finally realized.

"Don't pull that sly face with me, fox."

"It's what I do best."

"I-I-I should leave you two alone, please forgive me!" Yamoto stammered.

"Oh for f- Yamoto, open the door." Xerath demanded.

Yamoto slid the door open slowly, only to find something completely different from what he expected.

Xerath was kneeling down on the floor with Ahri resting her head on his lap.

Lord Xerath was fiddling with Lady Ahri's ears?

"Oh hey there." Ahri said, smiling innocently.

"What…" Yamoto said plainly, completely baffled by the situation.

"You, obviously, have never had a cat. Foxes like this sort of thing as well." Ahri said before Xerath stroked her ears again, her face completely relaxing as Xerath rubbed them.

"O...kay… then…" Yamoto whispered, still confused by the events that passed.

"Alright, I think that is enough for now. Now we have to move on to more pressing matters."

"Mou… Fine." Ahri rolled her eyes, lifting her head from Xerath's lap.

"First of all, Yamoto. I welcome you as my disciple. Myuin disagreed with me on my decision, but you were the only one out of the crowd who wielded a portion of magical strength. As a mage, I would prefer to teach one the arcane arts who actually has some insight into them rather than a complete and utter idiot with no experience."

Lord Xerath chose me?

He noticed my talent!

"You still have a long way to go though, so I'm going to be looking at practical applications to see how you can improve."

Practical applications? What were those?

"By that, I mean me watching you practice."

Ah, so Xerath-Sensei is going to watch me practice.

"As you wish, Lord Xerath."

"Also call me Xerath, I already have one person who does that and it pisses me off."

"As you wish, Xerath."

"So. Here is the plan for the coming days. Ahri has to check up with a doctor in the morning to see how she is doing, after which we will proceed to-"

"The Dark Palace. Boo!" Ahri tried to make it sound mockingly scary.

"That is a really bad name. Are all Ionian landmarks named by literal translations?"

"Only in the North."

Somehow Ahri had actually managed to spook Yamoto.

"Well this guy is going to be fun." She whispered to herself.

"Getting back to the matter then, our business in Ionia is with the Dark Sovereign."

"You mean that incredibly powerful witch in that floating castle?"

"Her name is Syndra, and she is a mage, not a witch. It's a more appropriate name. Anyway, I need to get her to cooperate with the Institute to get Ionia on better terms with her. When we get there, we have to be incredibly careful to not provoke her. If she does not cooperate, then we could have a major sh*tstorm on our hands, and I do not like sh*tstorms on my head. When the time comes to talk with her, Ahri and I will do the talking. We have knowledge on these sorts of things. You should just leave it to the experts. Is that understood?"

"Yes Lord!"

"And please stop that."


	28. Chapter 28: Powers from differing times

Chapter 28: The two powers from two times.

There was a long road ahead of them, void of any hint of civilization save for the marks of feet and handcarts.

Their journey to the Dark Palace, which needed a better name, had started an hour ago despite the serene and tranquility that Yamanoryu lacked by a fair margin, if you were not in the upper-class district.

The road spiraled up the mountain range for what seemed miles into a thick fog that topped the range like some strange sorcerous experiment. The fog was incredibly thick, perhaps only requiring a few meters before fully obscuring vision.

We will need to be careful when we come to the fog.

Xerath had heard stories of bandits that prowled through Ionia. This dense fog seemed like the best opportunity for an ambush. If something does not lie in that bleak white trap of condensed water, I will be seriously surprised.

I should be able to scan for life within a few meters to a good degree of accuracy, which should be enough to pick out the shape of human magical signatures. Anything that can hide its magic or its signature being too weak could very well go unnoticed though. But for something to hide its presence from him was to be applauded.

And feared should it come down to it.

* * *

Knowing that the journey was going to take a while, Ahri had started up a conversation on what the Dark Palace should be called instead.

"The Palace of the Witch?" Yamato suggested.

"No… That's too generic and discriminatory. What about the Sovereign's Domain?"

"Could work, but who the hell is the Sovereign. Not anyone would know that. What about Jonokyuden?" Ahri suggested, who had clearly ripped off Xerath's suggestion with a mere translation.

"Came to that one too quickly to make it work properly."

"You just don't want to lose that quickly. Give up, you can't win."

"I have won several times already. I intend to not back down without a good fight."

"Do I need to pull my ace out again?"

"By 'ace', you mean the knowledge that I am a eunuch? Not going to work well enough without some form of context."

"I'm going to burn you so hard one day that even Singed will notice you."

"That… was admirable, but it wasn't good enough. I'm not exactly the one who made a completely innocent personal and affectionate moment into an awkward sh*tfest that has probably scarred Yamato by now."

"I'm not a child, my Lord." Yamato defended his pride.

"I have lived for millennia, so do not be surprised that I consider you an ignorant child."

"You were locked up for ninety-five percent of that, so I wouldn't exactly call that living for millennia."

"Sonuva… Damn you."

"Haven't damned me enough, virgin." Ahri mocked.

"Bringing your trump card into this now?"

"Yes." Ahri said bluntly.

"Well then. I doubt that you will be able to withstand my next attack."

"Oh? You really think I will fall for your tricks?"

"You already have."

"What trick have you pulled now?"

"A meta trick."

"Meta?"

"Exactly."

"Bu-What are you talking about."

"A meta."

"But what is the Meta?"

"The trick is a trick. Tricking you into thinking you have been tricked has indeed lead you to being tricked, so I have instead tricked you into tricking yourself."

"Whaaa… My mind. My mind hurts."

"Or perhaps I merely said that to trick you into you tricking yourself of being tricked when you were not being tricked by the original trick when I did not mean to trick you in the first place."

"You… b*stard. Holy sh*t, my head hurts."

"You okay?"

Ahri pressed her head against his side, her hand moving into the grasp of his.

"Mind… just… staying like this for a second."

"Is this a side effect of the drug?"

"Maybe… but I just want to do this. I sometimes just get a bit lonely and it's nice to have a little breathing room once in a while with someone close. Puts my mind at ease just a little." Ahri smiled up at him softly.

"That's kind of sweet."

"Oh don't worry, I'm only using you as a substitute for Sona."

"Nice to know."

"Hehehe he hmm." Ahri's face softened once again, her fingers curling inside Xerath's hand.

She's concerned about something.

Either that or she is kind of happy.

I'm guessing the latter, but Ahri is hard to read.

She has always been like this.

Her motives and emotions are reserved and controlled, and even when she opens up, there is still this rejection and attempt at a logical explanation.

Xerath's grip tightened around Ahri slightly.

Ahri's eyebrow rose slightly before leveling out, her face relaxing into that beaming smile that could pierce and thaw through even the Frozen Heart.

It was nice to see such an amazing smile.

"Sh-Should I leave my Lord and my Lady alone?" Yamato said rather abruptly.

The two turned around, their eyes burning with anger at the young man's interruption.

"I'll just lag behind a bit then."

"There'll be problems once we reach the fog cloud. Perfect place for an ambush. Be ready for anything."

Yamato instinctively reached down to his scabbard, ready to do battle.

* * *

The fog was dense, just as Xerath expected. It would be the perfect place for an ambush, provided that they could find us. Traps would be the best option in this situation.

"My… Lord."

"Yes?"

"Come take a look at this. I think it's a trap."

"Then you should avoid it and carry on."

"I don't think I can."

Well sh*t.

Xerath turned around to look at the noose that Yamato's foot had entered.

It was inconspicuous and well camouflaged among the foliage that littered the path before them.

"Ahri, stay close. We don't know if they know we're here."

"Gotcha."

Ahri readied herself for combat.

She was adept when it came to down to Close Quarters Combat.

Magic only needed so much power to kill a man, so Ahri often chose to invest quite a bit of her training in positioning and target priority. She was quick and incredibly lethal when it came to removing weaker opponents on the Rift, but her raw power was unrefined and comparatively weak to even the Summoners. She could easily hold her own in any fight through her combined knowledge, but if asked to show her real force then most mages would just laugh at her sloppy magical conduits and inefficient uses of magic.

But by the fates she was damn good at sending Ezreal to the fountain. Serves the annoying twat right.

* * *

Xerath searched around for the actual trap mechanisms.

They were fairly simple and makeshift, nothing he should be able to disarm.

But what if it had an alarm attached?

According to his scans, there was no sign of arcane influence. Just a mundane trap.

Albeit one that could still kill a man.

After a few minutes of examining the trap, Xerath decided to disarm it.

Now let's just hope that nothing goes wrong-

Yamato tripped on the wet forest floor.

The trap set off, the noose tightened and was yanked upwards into the trees.

Thankfully the fall had gotten Yamato out of the trap.

There was a clatter of metal in the distance.

Sh*t.

They could hear the cries of bandits and the clatter of steel weapons.

Sh*t.

Then Xerath felt an arcane presence.

Sh********t.

"SCATTER!" He cried.

* * *

The area was engulfed in the pyromancer's wildfire.

Acquiring a mage had proved a significant boon to his clan.

Izada had long since had an interest in the arcane arts, but not once had he been able to procure any talent regarding anything magical.

To the monks, his magical prowess would never bear fruit.

Serves the pathetic elders right that he cast their temple to dust, them along with it.

This mage, a middle aged man from the South, had happened on his clan through his travels and had granted him lessons in exchange for the sparing of his life.

This was good.

The monks would quiver at his coming prowess in the fires of his anger. Combined with his twin blades, he would be able to enter the League of Legends just to prove how strong he was.

Every single Champion would look up to his awesomeness and beg him to teach them. He would then laugh and reject them, the pathetic whelps.

His clan, the Yakuzu, would reign supreme over Northern Ionia and strike fear into even those depraved monsters from Noxus.

Everyone would submit to his name!

"Oh hey boys." A female voice called innocently.

His entire clan and him turned around.

"You having a nice time?" the figure asked, her body perched on a thick log in a playful pose, her arms propping her head high with her legs swinging back and forth like some daydreaming girl. All with a great big smile spread across her face in such a way as to almost seem ominous.

It was that fox-b*tch from the League.

"We were just removing some unwanted guests, fox. Are you another traveler that wants to face against our might?"

"Face your might?" Ahri mocked, her brow raised quizzically at such a laughable gathering of common bandits. Well there was a mage, but his power had been less impressive than even her own, which was pathetic considering her poor magical conduction. The guy was just another street performer compared to her.

"Nah, I'm good. But you did manage to p*ss me off as well as Mister Crystal and his side-kick Clumsy Magical Samurai. Knowing Xerath, he'll be summoning his power right about now."

"Xerath?"

"HEY XERATH DEARY!" Ahri cried out into the firestorm. "THE STEREOTYPICAL BANDIT AMBUSHERS ARE OVER HERE!"

The hell is this b*tch doing?

Does the vixen wh*re think that this Xerath can actually do something against us?

"WHEN DID I BECOME YOUR 'DEARY'? ALSO I ALREADY KNOW AND KNEW WHERE THEY WERE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR SAYING THE OBVIOUS!"

"DON'T MENTION IT!"

"**YOU THINK HE CAN DO ANYTHING, YOU USELESS WH*RE!** **I AM IZADA, CLAN LEADER OF THE YAKUZU AND THE FUTURE RULER OF ALL OF IONIA!**" Izada roared, his anger boiling into every word at the seductive vixen that dared to mock him.

"Pahahahaha!" Ahri laughed out loud, barely able to contain her laughter at the notion of this d*ckwad becoming the ruler of Ionia, let alone the ruler of a little sandcastle. "YEAH, XERATH? I THINK THIS GUY IS DELUSIONAL AS F*CK!"

"WOULD YOU MIND NOT DISTURBING ME, I'M CONCENTRATING ON WAYS TO NOT HIT YOU IN THE BLAST RADIUS."

"THANK YOU FOR THE WARNING."

"I guess I'll leave him to you then. Bye-Bye." Ahri waved cheerfully before rushing off into the fog on a burst of spirit fire.

Izada felt the very world crack and wane as something came from the heart of the burning forest.

A burning lance of arcane energy surged through the firestorm and straight into the bandit gathering.

Within an instant, the lance ruptured and cast the area into a burning pyre of bare nuclei and molten earth.

* * *

There was nothing that could even prove the very existence of the bandits, bar a few scattered tokens and swords.

"Wow." Yamato whispered, completely in awe of Xerath's firepower. It was like nothing he had ever come across.

The wrath of a true mage, capable of turning battles and changing the very flow of a war with naught but a single incantation.

"I thank you very much." Xerath's autonomous voice crackled out from the embers of the inferno.

"For what?"

"For saving your *ss as well as eliminating these small fry. Your power, from what I can decipher, is more suited to duels and small skirmishing. It would take too long for you to take these people out before they would take you down from sheer numbers."

"I am strong, I probably could have taken out those guys."

"I thought differently. My time in the League has told me that it is very hard as a single member of your team to take down five enemies all by yourself. Unless you are either Akali or Jax who have feasted on the tears of idiots that have no idea about target priority."

"I've heard stories of those sorts of things. Do you think that I would ever be able to do something like that?"

Xerath looked down at the boy.

In a quiet and blank tone, Xerath said "Maybe."

* * *

"Ahri, you there?"

"Yeah! I'm over here!" Ahri's voice called the two from a fair distance away.

As they proceeded toward her voice, the fog started to clear.

Now that the guardian has been defeated, we should be at is how most stories would work. Perhaps my knowledge of novels could actually provide good foresight. Or that could just be another stupid thought of mine.

I have read so many novels that I'm actually starting to predict events.

I'm mad, truly insane.

And I was even right.

There, levitated above the valley, was the Palace. A large black-wood castle that gleamed in the morning sun, suspended by a reversed waterfall of blackest energy. Below the foreboding structure, a hundred torches denoting human settlement burned in the morning dawn.

It was indeed an amazing sight, the castle's presence easily able to scare most villagers from its domineering shadow.

Ahri was standing in awe at the sheer beauty of the morning dawn.

"Better than the Shuriman desert." Xerath said.

Ahri chuckled. "Yeah, definitely."

"And I thought you were unimpressed by most things."

"That's because they do not peak my interest. This, however."

"I understand the feeling, it is indeed a beautiful sight to behold."

"Yeah." Ahri said, her voice slowing as she spaced out at the grace the castle held.

The three made their way down to the bottom of the valley, their sights on the settlement protected by that immense shadow.

* * *

First contact wasn't pleasant.

Armed guards, although they were more like a local militia, met them with spears to ward off the intruders.

"WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS HERE? STATE WHO YOU ARE OR BE CUT DOWN WITHOUT QUESTION!" a militia called out, his more formal clothing suggesting authority and experience.

"We come from the Institute of War." Xerath spoke, the words causing the officer to flinch slightly at the realization that he had threatened an investigator from the most prominent international authority on Runeterra. Not even the Lady could ignore these people.

Xerath continued, "We have come to negotiate terms with the Sovereign on the crisis."

"V-Very well. I shall seek to give you audience with the Lady."

"I thank you for your cooperation."

The officer waved his hand back, the militia relaxing as they backed off from the newcomers.

"If you will come with me then." The man said.

As they walked towards the Palace, it became evident what sort of problem the Ionian Council was afraid of.

This was a cult, and cults tended to draw bad attention.

There were those who were throwing darts and knives at pictures of prominent Ionian figures including Karma and Irelia.

These people are ready for a fight, and more than capable of waging one. Under the protection of their 'Lady', they would be a significant threat to the current peace and balance of Ionia. And since they would disrupt the 'balance', the Kinkou will sooner or later take the entire cult out. The Kinkou were fanatical whenever it came down to balance and equilibria.

They were almost childish to that extent in how they pursued such ideals as removing chaos. Actually, if we were in a static time of chaos and order was introduced, would they actually seek to remove the order?

Maybe.

But I doubt that.

The officer guided them to a makeshift wooden elevator, the cables reaching up to the floating castle.

In a crack and whir of primitive gears, the elevator began to climb.

Xerath looked over to Ahri, who was crouching by the railings, her hands gripping tightly to the wooden structure.

"You afraid of heights?"

"Not most of the time, but when the little basket we are in comes across a sudden gust of wind, you should see the reasoning behind me being scared."

"The mountains behind us are blocking the wind from the sea, and there are no clouds in the sky. I doubt that that will happen."

"Maybe, but I just want to be sure."

"If you say so."

* * *

The elevator slowed to a halt.

The three made their way slowly through the serene garden entrance.

Gardeners were scouring for any irregularities, their eyes set on the grass and leaves like a scientist gone mad with lust for discovery.

Two guards stood at a large double door, quickly opening back the heavy cherry-wood doors as the three approached.

"And I ask who might you three be?" A young feminine voice asked.

"We are from the Institution of War."

"You dare wish to ask me to step down and deny _me_ my power?" Her voice became increasingly hostile with every syllable.

"My name is Xerath, perhaps you have heard of me?" Xerath answered in his autonomous voice.

"No."

Of course no one has heard of me.

I'm never summoned to the f**king Rift.

"I am a being of pure arcane might, I was the ender of an entire empire, and I will be your teacher for what is to come."


	29. Chapter 29: 'Real' Magic

Chapter 29: 'Real' Magic.

"Ha!" Syndra laughed.

Xerath turned around to Ahri, her entire face screaming 'good job, idiot'.

Yamoto was still clueless about what was going on.

So much for a grand introduction.

"You know what happened to my last mentor?" Syndra asked, pointing over to a large stonewall to her side.

"His entire body was smeared across there. You expect me to grant you the same fate?"

Her words were cold and harsh, but there was a hint of restraint in her voice. A tiny wavering note that skirted barely out of his notice.

I need to unlock that shard and bring it out into the light. That is the key to winning her over.

But how can I drag that out?

"I am not like your previous mentor. I have skill and knowledge into the arcane that none have even managed to comprehend."

"Then why do you wish to grant _me_ knowledge of the arcane? You are nothing but a pawn of the Institute, sent to strip me of power and strength! I see through your lies! You will never gain my approval!"

"I have other reasons to be here. It was your cousin, Azulo Jun, who told me of your situation. I have known Azulo for many months now and know that she was right to introduce me into this issue. I know by raw and harsh experience what malpracticed magic can do, and I do not wish the same of a mage with such immense potential as you."

"Your words fall on deaf ears! My relatives are nothing but a nuisance to me! To me, your magic is little more than that of a parlor trickster! What 'great magic' can even bear to stand against I? Answer me that!"

"If I may, I must remove my cloak."

"Pfff… What will that do to your power?"

"My cloak is made of magical dampening material that is strong enough to reduce my large arcane signature. Without the cloak, I could be detectable by mages a hundred meters away."

Xerath started unbuttoning heavy cloak, each inch of space gained leaked forth an exponential amounts of arcane energies.

Syndra moved her head backwards in shock of this new change in power, but it could have also been due to the fact that Xerath was taking of his clothes.

In fact it was probably the latter from a slight red flush of blood to her cheeks in embarrassment.

Either way, she was still unphased by Xerath's power flux.

The cloak fell to the ground, revealing Xerath's true form.

Syndra backed away in her seat slightly, aghast at the crystalline entity before her. Nothing had prepared her for this, this being of true, refined magic.

"I-" The words were stuck in her throat.

"I still decline your offer." Syndra said, the strength of her previous tone gone.

Decline.

We are reaching her.

"But I will give you accommodation. You- You have peaked my interest, unlike the rest of your comrades. Speaking of which, who are they?"

Ahri stepped forward.

"I am Ahri, another champion of the League. I was acting as a guide for Xerath here."

"Oh…" Syndra started, her voice changing to like that of a preying vulture, "So a fox guides such a _superior_ being to my realm? Your _ways_ _of persuasion_ are well known in Ionia. Did you do the same to this 'man' as you did to those others?"

Damn it! Xerath, I'm in a tight spot here. If I say anything, Syndra will use that to her advantage. Even if I say nothing, that is the exact same thing as saying yes! She planned this out and gave me not even a single moment to prepare for her. Damn her!

Xerath.

Come on.

Get the hint.

I need help.

Her fists tightening told both Xerath and Syndra their message.

"Oh? Are you afraid, fox? Afraid of what you were and always will be? HA! I have no such thoughts! My power and will is constant unlike your pathetic quiverings and fidgetings! Serves a wh*re like you right!"

"Syndra! I came here in good spirits. I expect the same from you." Xerath interrupted.

"So she did, did she? Well I was not talking to _you_, Xerath. This is between women now."

"Does it look like I care for such folly? Such trifles are beyond me! Your audience is with me!"

"My _audience_ is with who I choose it to be! And now my audience is with Ahri!" Syndra snapped back to Ahri. "You really have _persuaded_ this one as well? Had trouble sucking his soul out, did you?"

Those were mistakes! I could not control my power back then! I'm better now! I want to correct you!

But how do I correct you? How?

How!

HOW!

Ahri was physically trembling at the thoughts that spun through her mind, all the while Syndra's face bore a wicked smile at the destruction she had just wrought, allowing her composure to return from the reveal of Xerath's true form.

"M-M-My Q-Queen!" Yamoto started.

No.

No no no no no!

He's going to ruin this!

"P-Perhaps we are t-too hasty to make-make judgments. Per-Perhaps you-you could let us retire for the d-day? I-It has been a long journey for us, with no time spare to rest our heads for long. If w-we had some rest, then maybe we could converse on more peaceful terms?"

The fool!

Xerath readied his energies.

"BE SILENT! I SPOKE NOT TO YOU, WORM!" Syndra spat before unleashing a tendril of shadow that wrapped around Yamoto's body like an anaconda.

Yamoto struggled as he was lifted from the ground by the conjured force, the tendril digging into his clothes and skin.

The shadow was dispelled by Xerath's cerulean burst, the snake evaporating into tufts of shadow smoke.

"B-But how!"

"Magical tendrils, a channeling of magic through a vector in such a way to repulse matter. And not even counter-proofed? I used those back in my academy days to do menial tasks and even then I knew that I could mess around with idiots who only counter-proofed it once. You have a long way to go before you can ever face off against a _real_ mage."

Syndra's rage boiled in her face at the thought that this entity could waft away her magic on a mere whim and laughed at it.

She was the best mage on Runeterra, but he was laughing at her?

"THEN TAKE THIS!" She cried, summoning eight magical spheres of immense density to her side.

Well then.

I can guess what is going to happen next, Xerath thought.

I can't dodge all of them.

But I can do something else that will probably just piss her off more, which will save myself from the damage.

I can also let the spell go through, but that would only let her ego burn even hotter.

I need to put her in her place.

How about this then?

* * *

As Xerath predicted, Syndra launched the balls directly at him.

They came in fast, making a blink seem as long as the swing of a great sword in comparison.

Xerath emitted a blazing corona of cerulean light.

The balls greedily feasted on this new energy like rabid dogs, the corona fragmenting as the cerulean corona faded from sight, only a small pinprick of darkening blue remained on the surface of the spheres.

In a sudden flash of energy, each sphere was repulsed back with immense force.

Syndra felt one of the balls whistle by her head as it cracked against the stone wall behind her, her eyes wide in astonishment.

But how was that possible?

Each of these balls weighed as much as four-dozen full plate armors, and their shells could withstand impacts of titans!

Not even the greatest mage could so quickly generate enough energy to halt even one, let alone eight!

However, Xerath did more than just emit a corona of light.

His corona was actually a buffer of dense magic, enough to cushion a small portion of the momentum of the spheres. This tiny brief moment of compaction allowed Xerath to gather the location of all of the spheres as they impacted across the magical shell.

In this moment, Xerath concentrated the coronal magic into super dense shards of arcane energy at tangents to the impact zones. As the shards compacted from the immense forces of the magical spheres, Xerath set up a magical force behind the shards, effectively preventing the shards from drawing any closer to himself.

In a final motion, Xerath dispersed the tips of the shards, unleashing the raw pressure held up inside them. The shards broke apart, their momentum transferred to the spheres as the magic burst out from their containers. The resultant forces were enough to repel the spheres with such force that they became embedded in the stone walls of the room.

This was magic.

Not simply confined to summoning elements to do one's bidding, but using a combination of simple laws to produce a truly outstanding display of otherwise unexplainable phenomena.

Xerath was beyond Syndra in much more than simple conjuring technique, but also on the very knowledge of the fundamental laws of magic.

But Syndra did not know this.

She saw the motion of the balls being repulsed, but the beauty of Xerath's method was beyond her.

She knew that Xerath had used comparatively little arcane energy to ward off her assault, but how could he have used this sort of simple burst to ward off such a powerful attack was simply inconceivable to her.

Holy f**k, mouthed Syndra.

Every single strand that could have been identified as confidence and composure had been completely removed by Xerath's incredible feat. Her face was completely blank and pale as all the blood had rushed out of her, her mind racing to try to comprehend how this could have happened.

But there was nothing she knew that could have explained this spell Xerath had just manifested.

"Become my student, and I shall teach you how to do that."

"I-" Syndra was struggling for words, her very body trembling.

"I… w-will consider your offer." She said, her voice void of all emotion, only the stammer of a clueless soul.

"I am sorry for having to do so much, I will talk with you tomorrow on the matter. I have not had much time to sit down and relax since I set off from the Institute. I will say this however." Xerath cleared himself before continuing.

"You have an undeniable amount of power locked inside you. That much is obvious. But your previous mentor failed to teach you what I consider to be the very core aspects of magic. You have every right to despise him. I know that the Ionian magical community is unorthodox to the other nations, Shurima included, in how so much is focused around set rules of feelings and control over them. Only those that can get their principles can achieve the right to be a mage, which are a scant few who have often than not chosen to enter into the Kinkou or enter a monkhood. Another important aspect about you in particular is about your disciplines, a concept not taught in Ionian culture. Most people, including me, have a single discipline that can spread out loosely into other disciplines. You, from what I have deciphered, appear to have a massive six at your disposal. There is no single master that can teach you to control your power, and the lack of core knowledge is causing you to drag behind other mages of a similar caliber. I have extensive knowledge into the arcane and the very fundamentals of Physical Induction, as well as significant experience into the Magical and Physical mediums. There is much for you to learn, but I will help you along your own path."

Xerath relaxed himself, another one of his 'grand speeches' done.

"If you will excuse us then, your accommodation is welcomed."

* * *

As Syndra was showing them their rooms, Xerath heard the sounds of people 'relaxing' all around him.

Other people in the castle?

For there to be this much noise, there must at least be a few dozen people staying here.

"Those people are those who have sought me out for protection." Syndra said, her head not turning to meet his face.

"So you are offering asylum? Why do such a thing?"

"Because I originally thought that the needy should be compensated, and if they need me, why should I not answer them?"

You are a thorn in Ionia's side. If you are doing this, then you are only digging deeper into them. You could even be p*ssing off other countries and organizations.

* * *

Night was fast approaching, leaving Xerath with a grand eight hours of doing nothing except thinking, staring up at the ceiling from his bed.

It was nice to think sometimes, especially after all that has happened within the past few days.

I protected Ahri three times so far, the time at the tavern, the time against that drake and now Syndra's sharp jabs of words.

Wait wait wait.

Why am I thinking about Ahri like that?

She's strong, incredibly strong on the Rift and in the League in general.

She should not need this much attention.

But there is just something about her that makes people drawn to her, me included.

That beaming honest smile.

It has to be that.

There are only a few times when people can pull that sort of smile off and she has done that to me several times like back when we first met. Or at least insinuated it.

That smile is enough to break down the defenses of any man.

She is a seductress after all, so I wouldn't be surprised if she knows these tricks to work through a man and strike directly at him!

But she wouldn't do that now.

Not once has she shown such intent in that sort of act.

She can't, can she?

I know about her past, but I do not know the exact details of it.

Perhaps she is hiding something?

Or does she dislike her past so much that she is willing to completely abandon it in exchange for all of this new sense of meaning she has been granted from the League?

"Hey Xerath?"

And of course she calls me just when I'm thinking of this.

Great.

"What is it Ahri?"

"You mind if I come in for a bit?"

"Come in then." Xerath said, trying not to sound hostile.

Ahri slid open the door, revealing herself in a night robe.

The two stared at each other for a moment.

"You want it to be like that?"

"Like what."

"You really are dense."

"What of it?"

Ahri laughed for a moment.

"I wouldn't worry about it. I think that Syndra does know that there is something going on between us, but I don't care really."

"Definitely not lovers, that's for sure."

"At least down to the usual love."

"You would usually go with intimacy?"

"Usually, I just haven't been feeling in the mood to do that sort of thing recently."

"Explain."

"My… experiences… just keep coming back whenever I do that sort of thing. It can be kind of scary sometimes, so I usually try to keep away from those kinds of deeds now."

Ahri closed the door behind her, inching her way closer towards Xerath.

"But there are some who help. People who go beyond the usual bounds of relationships through their own experiences and actions. They help put my mind at ease when they ask for aid since they usually mean it in such a manner. When I ask for aid, they come to my side instinctively without a need for words. The very thought of them helping me is enough to bring a brief moment of solace to my mind, and when they ask for help, the thought that I know that I am being useful to someone I know so well makes me incredibly happy."

Ahri was now sat at his bed.

"A tiny drop of solace to retain the sanctity of one's sanity? The idea is far from alien in my mind."

"Yeah, I guess you could put it like that. Sometimes, I just need a little bit of solace when my mind goes into overtime."

Ahri lay down beside him, gazing into those sapphire pits of his eyes.

"Mind… just staying like this for a little bit? I… have quite a bit on my mind."

Xerath laughed.

"Pray tell. Your thoughts have been at least… entertaining… to listen to."

Ahri stumbled for words for a moment before her lips tightened and began to speak once more.

"Those insults… hurt. It doesn't matter how simple and archaic they are, they still hurt when every single person out there is thinking about my being. Being called a 'b*tch' or 'wh*re' still hurts me despite how many times it is repeated. It drags on in my mind and reminds me of my past self and how pathetic I was."

Ahri's fingers curled as she remembered those times of simple and brutish lust. Xerath could more than see the hatred she had for her past self.

It was written clearly across her entire face, the feelings of weakness and anger whirling their way inside her mind.

Xerath cautiously moved his hand toward her, trying not to creep her out.

Slowly, he rolled her towards him, letting Ahri wrap her own arms around his chest like a child vying for its mother.

Entire minutes passed as the two stayed silent and motionless, all that could be said being lost in the moment or the silence saying what was needed.

* * *

Twenty-two hundred hours.

Suspect remains in that palace.

Population is unwary.

At Oh-three hundred hours, we begin our move to seek and secure suspect.

This Sovereign will pose a threat, but we have ways to deal with mages with our equipment.

First mission will be successful, no doubt.

The Boss should be proud of us when we get back.


	30. Chapter 30: Failure

Chapter 30: Failure.

The two still remained motionless together.

The only dialogue being slight changes in their finger grips and slight maneuvers to get in a more comfortable position.

But Xerath could sense so much from Ahri.

She felt weak and frail despite all he knew about her.

Her very psyche was amplifying the thought of her frailty, no motions of strength or confidence, only the quivers of a frightened girl.

But why was she frightened?

Did those words really prey on her mind so much?

There must be something more to this.

I know there must be something more to this.

Ahri finally broke the silence.

"Please. Don't trust me."

Ahri was trembling slightly, her mouth unsure to its direction.

"I know what you're thinking about. I know I was a seductress in the past and I know the thought of me remaining as one still remains with some people. That has been constant throughout my time as this _half-breed form_. It clings to me like my skin, a filthy layer that only distorts the views of others. It feels so much better for me to have no one that I can attach to. It feels wrong that someone should ever be able to forgive me for the sins I have committed!"

That struck him down.

That last sentence sent Xerath's mind reeling.

He had done things beyond any punishment this world could offer.

Yet Ahri was trying to cope with her own sins that were impossibly small compared to his!

How could he not have thought more about this earlier!

Ahri was being stretched thin by the faults of her past, and he was no different.

There were so many more he knew that were bound in the spider-webs that they themselves had weaved!

Viktor, Azel, Malzahar, Diana.

They all had problems with their past!

Even Syndra had to be subject to her past!

Yet here he was, oblivious to the connections!

Xerath's anger raged inside of him for being so dense and insensitive.

How could he not have realized all of this!

It was so obvious now!

Xerath wrapped himself around Ahri, his large form squeezing against hers.

"I don't care. I don't care about trusting you. I want to trust what I want to trust. And that includes your judgments. I have committed sins so much greater than yours, so please do not say that. I know nothing about your sins, but I can damn well not care about them. Does that mean I forgive you? Not sure that you can consider them sins if no one cares about them."

Ahri quivered for a moment before looking up at him with those beaming orange eyes of hers. They felt so soft now, their penetrating gaze gone, relegated to the reflection of the sun in restless water.

Her mouth was open wide as if she had been stunned.

A few moments later, her face replied to him with that beaming smile that blazed warmth into Xerath beyond anything he could feel with his body.

* * *

"Momma! Momma! Where are you!"

She looked around, surrounded by dark figures, their eyes burning with the fires of hatred directly at her.

"I'm right beside you honey." The voice of her mother calmly replied.

She looked over to her mother.

Her face was heavily bruised and battered, yet still she smiled her smile at her child.

She reeled against the horrific image of her mother's face.

The figures had done this to her! I must remove them!

In a waft of her hands, some of the figures dispersed into the ether.

But their gaze only grew stronger, their eyes boiling her mother's flesh off and contorting her face into that of a demon.

Yet still she was trying to smile.

"For your protection, we must take your child away." Said the voice of one of the figures, a voice filled with feminine and masculine tones beyond any voice capable of being created by any mere human.

As the figure stepped out, its figure warped into that of her old master.

In a crack of twigs, the figure cracked and warped into that of a demon from the lowest of hells.

Its maw opened wide to swallow her.

* * *

Syndra woke screaming.

It had been that same dream again.

She was sweating heavily and her body was trembling uncontrollably.

Holding herself in her arms for a moment, she quickly calmed down.

It would probably be best to go around for a walk.

She usually did that when dreams blighted her.

Putting on her night-robe and lighting a lantern, Syndra made her way out.

* * *

A few minutes later, she heard a soft voice.

It was unmistakably Ahri's, but it was coming from Xerath's room?

Peeking into his room, she found the two together.

So this vixen really has seduced him?

But why the hell do they both have their clothes on?

I don't think that is how that sort of thing goes down.

Unless they are into that sort of thing.

Wait, I saw Xerath naked earlier.

He didn't have… that 'thing' men have.

So… how have they done it?

And why am I blushing so hard?

I'm a grown woman now. I should be able to think about his sort of thing without getting embarrassed about this sort of thing.

I'm an adult!

They could have done it other ways like…

No no no no.

I need to be mature!

I'm a strong independent woman who does not need such barbaric thoughts!

But still, why are they doing this?

It makes no sense!

Every time that two adults of the opposite gender are in one room, it always comes down that sort of thing!

At least it should.

That's the only reason why they would be like this at the moment.

But I've spent way too long on this.

Xerath is… an interesting individual. But that vixen could easily have seduced him.

I knew that there was more than just a simple relationship between these two when Xerath answered in Ahri's stead.

The way they look at each other just says something about them.

But the question is what!

But this is stupid.

I'm filling my head with stupid thoughts.

I need to get a move on or else my usual walking plan will be ruined.

* * *

Syndra made her way out towards the garden.

In the lamplight, she saw someone.

A black dressed soldier.

A Black Operative, its face covered by a fearsome skull mask.

Their eyes met for a second, but that mere second seemed like an eternity.

The operative began to tighten its shoulders, bringing the small compact gun it held to bear down.

But Syndra was prepared.

In a motion of her arms, a blast of dark wind wracked the operative, sending it out into the garden and bouncing off the stone wall on the far side of the garden.

"MYUDAK!" An autonomous voice cried, the tinny voice answered with the sound of guns readying.

F**K!

The chatter of low-velocity rounds filled the air as the yellow-white puffs of gunfire took form in the relative darkness of the garden.

Syndra lifted a wooden door off of its hinge and held it up as a shield against the fusillade.

The short-range submachine rounds failed to penetrate the hard timber, but the sheer volume was more than enough to force Syndra to seek reinforcement to her temporary shield.

Cracking the floorboards with her magic, she summoned them to join her shield.

The gunfire was weakening, but there was a steady stream of rounds constantly being bombarded against her shelter.

To an experienced soldier, this would have suggested that something was going on.

But Syndra had no such experience, only concerned with the fire bearing down on her and was unable to sense the change in cacophony.

"VYRONEET!" A cry called.

The sound of small metallic objects rung out across the surface of her wooden shield.

The grenades detonated in a brilliant fireball.

* * *

Signaling to hold fire, the Sergeant signaled for him and two others to close in for the execution while the other six took up over-watch.

The rookie was probably dead by now.

Damn.

He needed more new blood in his company after all that sh*t with the Boss' lab.

The rest of the squad had their machine-guns prepped and ready to deal with any other newcomers.

Quick and efficient, that was how Zaunites did things.

The three took careful, calculated steps towards the center of the blast zone. Mages were always hard to deal with. Who knows what this b*tch could have done to stop the blast.

Whatever it was, a slug from his gun would silence her and put a lot of ease to the rest of the underground organizations.

They may grant us some form of reward for disposing of this annoyance. Maybe even something from the Ionians.

Whatever.

Time to finish this.

He was now two meters from the blast zone, his gun ready to do the deed.

Inside the small dust cloud from the explosion, he saw something move.

SH*T!

* * *

The three were flung aside with immense force, one's back breaking upon the far walls, another being tossed a whole five-hundred meters down into the valley below. As to the last one, his body had been wrecked by an implosion in his torso from some dark art.

Syndra picked herself up, her pure white hair waving through an ethereal wind that blew up from the ground. There was no longer any time to hold back.

I have to unleash my full power.

This is going to be fun.

Summoning her power, she began to eradicate the intruders.

The tattered shield she had been using suddenly crumpled. In a moment, it flew apart, sending wood fragments across the garden at an incredible speed.

The shards dug their way into the flesh of the operatives, one even being decapitated by the sudden onslaught.

The surviving operatives dragged themselves to their feet before once again unleashing a hail of gunfire at Syndra.

But it would fail.

Syndra had summoned the tiled path of the garden as her protectors and sentinels, the small anti-personal rounds barely even denting the hard stone.

In response to this hell-fire, Syndra unleashed her own.

Rain fire upon me, and I SHALL RETURN IT!

Summoning spheres of abyssal darkness, she launched them at her attackers.

Many spheres missed because of the evasive nature of her attackers, but the ones that hit did so spectacularly.

One was turned into literal pulp as a sphere went cleanly through him, showering the garden wall in a display of viscera. Another's head came right off as the dense arcane matter barraged his head with immense kinetic force.

Not satisfied with her work, Syndra snatched one of the balls in mid-flight and flung it at sub-sonic speed towards one on top of the compound.

In a puff of breaking tiles, the operative disappeared.

Snatching one of the operatives by their foot in her serpentine leash, she smashed him against the ground before launching him skyward.

The man was screaming as he came down, before Syndra caught him in her leash once again and accelerating him further, the soft ground hitting him like an entire Piltoverian tanker.

Silence fell across the garden, now transformed into a bloodbath of gore from Syndra's demonic powers.

In the far corner of the garden, Syndra saw the last survivor.

It was the first operative she had come across.

He was frantically aiming his pistol at her, his hands though were shaking too much to get a good shot off.

Even she could tell that.

Time to finish all of this then.

Summoning one final arcane sphere, she prepared to remove the operative.

"**SYNDRA!**" An autonomous voice roared in both the material and arcane planes, carrying truly intense gravity.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Xerath roared. He had managed to arrive just in time to stop her.

"What is it, Xerath? I am disposing of intruders."

"We have a right to know what they sought after. If you remove this one, then we will never know who was sent after you."

Syndra furrowed her brow in thought at what Xerath was saying.

After a moment, she turned her head directly at him.

"Very well then, I shall leave it to you to get information from him."

"He's a she by the way. Fairly young at that, nineteen to early twenties maybe."

"How can you tell?"

"You can tell by her suit curvature and size of her breasts, small as they are."

"Really, working just on those two observations alone?"

"Yes." Xerath put rather bluntly.

Syndra sighed.

"Fine. Go find the information we need."

"We, you say?"

"Wha- Bu- Look, its not like I want to go with you j-just yet. I am still thinking about it, baka- I mean idiot, idiot." Syndra pouted, face red.

Got to love Tsunderes.

"If you say so." He said before slowly approaching the operative.

* * *

Xerath slowly approached the girl, careful as not to startle her.

"Vy govorit Zauni?" He said, asking if she spoke Zaunic.

"D-Da." The girl replied from behind her skull-mask.

"I am from the Institute of War. I mean no harm. I need your assistance."

"Y-Your 'fr-friend' meant h-harm, ho-how do I expect you mean to re-remove me?"

"I too am a mage like her. If I meant harm, then I could have removed you from across the garden. Yet I am here right in your face."

"Wh-Why sh-should I te-tell you anyth-thing!"

She is getting scared.

I need to calm her down.

Getting that pistol away from her would be the first step.

Maybe I could get her to empty the magazine.

"If you really wish to test me, fire that pistol at me." I've prepared myself for this.

The muzzle flashed six times.

Six rounds tore their way into Xerath's cloak.

The girl panted as she had done the man's final wish.

Without a word, the man lifted his head again, his face or body showing any signs of pain.

There was not even blood gushing from the wounds, only a blur of blue light through his heavy cloak.

"Yo-YOU SHOULD BE DEAD! NO ONE CAN SURVIVE A POINT BLANK SHOT FROM A PISTOL, NOT EVEN A MAGE WITH A BARRIER!" The girl was shaking even more, aghast at what this man could take.

"I am not a man, I am something far beyond mere mortals." Xerath replied, his words more than just a statement.

"My name is Xerath, perhaps your Boss has told you about me?"

"H-How do y-you know this! We-We're the Boss' secret forces! How did you!"

"I have worked with him this past year closely. Viktor has been working on a project recently, has he not? He does tend to suggest things every now and again, but the fact that his own private mask is so similar to yours does give away quite a lot."

"Y-YOU WON'T GET ANY MORE ANSWERS FROM ME!" She cried, pointing the gun towards her head.

She pulled the trigger.

Click.

…

What.

Looking at the pistol, she found out what was the problem.

In her preoccupation with this 'Xerath', he had completely destroyed the firing mechanisms in one precise blast.

She had not even noticed any burst of light or sound.

How… How was this possible?

No mage she had heard of would ever have done that.

But this 'Xerath' had actually let her live, so he would be a first.

Then she realized what she had just tried to do.

Take her own life.

Thoughts ran rampant in her mind, trying to calm herself down.

But it was all to no avail.

In a few short moments, she was shaking violently, her body unresponsive to her demands. The pistol slipped from her fingers.

She wanted to curl up.

To remove every sense from her mind.

Xerath saw the girl's dismay.

Similar to Azel's in some way.

I guess this is my punishment for being so soft and forgiving.

He saw her starting to curl over, her hands on her head trying to remove all sounds from her helmet.

Cautiously moving closer to her, he covered her in his arms in an attempt to comfort her.

* * *

Syndra was watching.

She did not get this.

She did not get what Xerath was trying to do.

It would be better to just interrogate the girl.

"This is what Xerath is like." The familiar voice came from behind her.

It was Ahri.

She was clothed in the same robe she had back in Xerath's room.

"Is he really this strange?"

Ahri chuckled.

"Yeah. I heard from Melzy-"

"Melzy?"

"My pet-name for this lazy *sshole of a seer Malzahar. He was around when Xerath first emerged from his prison. Back then, they had brought along this local girl, Azel I think her name was, on their way to the rendezvous point. She was reacting in a similar way to this girl is at the moment."

"You can also see that it's a girl?"

"I get out a bit. Unlike you, otaku. But going back to what I was saying, Xerath managed to calm Azel down in this way. She's gone on to be his disciple and secretary."

"Otaku…- I-I'm not on that level!"

"But seriously, Xerath is a good guy. You should learn to accept him. Pretty hard to understand him sometimes, but he's generally a fun person to be around and he- he would suit someone like you."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Syndra was starting to get frantic from her rather… perverse… thoughts that sprouted from her mind.

"Hahahaha! You really are a child. In a good way though, cute as well. But I think that you two would make a good pair. Both of you are amazing magicians and are both strange as f**k, not to mention your cute side that Xerath freaking loves."

"Me, cute? How!"

"Because I say so, that's why. He likes weak and helpless people. Reminds him of his old self. He's moved on since then, but still… he has his weaknesses. I kinda like him like that."

Syndra watched as Ahri's eyes softened at the sight of Xerath comforting this new girl.

…

This makes no sense.

No sense at all.

* * *

"What is your name?" Xerath spoke up.

"N-Natalie."

"Nice to meet you, Natalie. You mind if I take your mask off?"

Natalie nodded slowly.

Removing the mask showed her bundled blond hair and a pure white face, her eyes red with tears from her breakdown.

"You mind explaining what your mission was?"

"Hmmhmm. We had a target, Alexei Munitov or commonly referred to as Jinx, to track down and interrogate. We had pinpointed her down to this castle, seeking asylum or shelter. She has information on another target involved in the Tipulko incident."

The destruction of Viktor's original Lab!

"Syndra!" Xerath called over to her. "In your list of asylum seekers, do you have a name of Alexei Munitov?"

"Uh- Oh yeah, I think I do. I'll go find her now."

VRRRRRRRRRR.

The whir of the descending elevator to the ground.

"That's her, isn't it? By the fates, she has good timing."

Natalie tried to stand and move, but her legs failed her and she fell into Xerath once more, her face in absolute agony.

"I-If I don't do anything, they'll all have died for nothing!"

Xerath knew there was no point in chasing this Jinx girl, but he could do something to denote her.

"Give me a minute."

Xerath removed his cloak, revealing his true form once more.

To Natalie, this being was that of a god itself. This form of pure magic was beyond her, yet he had laid himself low to help her.

In a sudden flash of light, Xerath liberated himself from the second confining chain in the Magus Catenas.

This way, his magic could see so much further across the land.

Such as the magical signature aboard the elevator.

He did not have telekinetic abilities like Syndra, but he could mark this Jinx with a tracer to tell him exactly where she went.

I may only sense the tracer, not her magical signature. Hopefully she will not be able to remove this.

It will not help me now, but I pray hope this will bear fruit in the future.

* * *

I guess that did not work out.

That Vikky guy is really starting to p*ss me off, sending those guys after me.

Should probably meet up with the boys and Stan to make sure that everything is ready.

I really want to see some damn fireworks soon.

He better have a good show ready for me.

I've even got some microwave popcorn somewhere in my bag.

Even a microwave gun-thingy. But then again, Mr. Zappy would not be happy for me to use him in such a way.

Maybe I should use Fishbones!

"But you'll just blow it all up, leaving nothing left!" Fishbones said in his usual mopey voice.

"Shh Fishbones, we're trying to be sneaky and escape here. If you start talkin', then ever'one will be lookin' at us."

"They already are when you're talking with yourself."

"Pff… Like I care. What do you think about this, Pow Pow."

"**KILL EVERYTHING. SHOOT FAST. LET ME CHUG THROUGH THEIR TORSOS LIKE A GRINDER ONCE AGAIN! OH THE GLORIOUS ECHO OF MY VOICE! I WISH I COULD SPEAK MORE OFTEN TO HEAR THE ROAR OF MY DEAFENING VOICE!**"

"Yeah, I'll probably settle with either Zappy or you, Fishbones."

"Yeah, let's not. Too violent for my tastes."

"Ah, mon petit cherie, you would indeed be wise to ignore this imbecile when you have I, the great magnificent Zappy by your side."

I'll probably have to stick with Fishbones for a while until I can get some better guns.

* * *

Author's note: A big thank you to everyone who has enjoyed and reviewed this story. This is as far as I have gone up to so far and this fanfiction is currently on hiatus due to my examinations, but I will be returning to finish this story in a month or so. I hope you all have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing this. I look forward to posting more chapters in the future.


	31. Chapter 31: Thoughts

Chapter 31: Thoughts.

* * *

Things were not looking good so far.

The wisp container had been smashed by the Forest Drake and he had not had time to check on them. Xerath could not determine whether Syndra had multiple disciplines until he acquired more.

Then there was Natalie's condition.

She was still recovering, and it was clear that she would make a complete one, but there were growing tensions between her and the other residents in the castle.

Ionians despised Zaunites, so having a Zaunic mercenary being hospitalized in the same residence was far from comfortable.

In fact, one of the guests had even come into Natalie's room last night and tried to decapitate her.

Note the word 'try'.

Xerath and Yamoto had both managed to suppress him in time for Ahri to unleash her charming spell.

Both Xerath and Yamoto had to then suppress him to stop Ahri from being pounced upon.

After that, Xerath and Yamoto had remained on guard duty to prevent any more disturbances from harming Natalie.

She was a key to this new puzzle.

And Xerath liked puzzles.

That aside, even Yamoto was on edge around Natalie.

Both his father and younger sister had been killed during the Invasion by the hands of Zaunic insurgents. He was doing well to suppress his disapproval of the situation, but he constantly questioned Xerath's decision to escort her back to this 'Viktor' person.

Viktor was known throughout Valoran as being this great scientist, but since most Zaunic scientists were perhaps the greatest villains a novelist could even think of, the stereotype of evil, mad scientist completely obstructed any other possible opinion of him as being a somewhat decent person.

Knowing him personally, he wasn't an evil mad scientist, in fact he was relatively sane compared with the more 'eccentric' ones such as the extreme madman Dr. Mundo. Although he was slightly mad in how he came up with some incredibly stupid ideas, such as his Hextech Toaster.

But Yamoto had only heard rumors of this 'Viktor', which was only made worse by the fact that he was barely even selected for Rift matches. Even less picked than Xerath!

Most of the time at least.

* * *

"Lord Xer-"

"Xerath."

"Xerath, why must we continue to watch over this 'Natalie'? Surely this 'Viktor' has other minions to do his bidding. Why keep her with us?"

"Because she's a good bargaining chip. I know Viktor well, and he tends to prioritize safety of his assets above all things. If he knows that Natalie has some information of his, he will want her back alive and without any of those secrets being spilled. If we do get her back to Viktor, then we can use her to get Viktor to explain himself. And I want him to explain why he went this far into Ionian territory without notifying anyone. He would not do this for any normal reason, so this Munitov girl has probably p*ssed him off significantly. I can't even think of a single thing that could make Viktor that p*ssed that he would send his personal army halfway across Runeterra to capture a single girl. There has to be more to this. And I want to find out what it is."

"Yes, Lord Xer-"

"Can't you get it right for once!" Xerath cried, trying to get this imbecile to stop such formalities.

* * *

Ahri poked her head in between the sliding door.

"So, how is Nat doing?"

"Two days and you've already made a pet name for her?"

"I've been thinking about calling Syndra 'Syndy' since I first heard her name." Ahri replied, a devious smile stretched wide on her face.

Xerath stared into her disapprovingly.

"She's doing fine. The nurses' say that she will be mobile by at least tomorrow. They really want her out as soon as possible."

"Not surprising. The war did take a considerable toll on everyone. Especially those tolls that Zaun took. I don't think there is any single person alive from that time who has not had a family member or friend killed by Zaun. Ionia hates Zaun, no doubt about that."

"What about you? I assume you are no exception."

"I… I used to despise them. They were this bizarre alien nation that could boil blood and liquefy bone with mere wafts of their poisons. As a fox, those sorts of things are really scary, and I mean really scary. We… beasts… don't really think about or understand what it is we are eating or what we are drinking. When you realize that you are suddenly growing weak when it seems like you have taken absolutely no damage, you have no idea what the hell happened. Your mind races to try to find an answer, yet you can't think of any reason why. You may taste bitterness in the air, but nothing else than that. You desperately try to find an answer why, but it never comes to you. Out of all of the ways I could think about dying, that is perhaps one of the worst I can think of. Not knowing what you did wrong."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ahri's smile beamed out once more. "I was just thinking was all. But seriously, I dislike Zaun. I mean- I just don't know enough people from there to make a good observation. Janna is an exception, but… she… doesn't really like to talk about her past that much. Kind of a grey chapter in her books. Doesn't want anything to do with Zaun anymore since she came to the League. So, from what I can tell, Zaun as a country just isn't an amiable enough place for me to even consider liking the place. Not to mention how I got to know so many people over my travels who have lost someone during those times, and the vast majority were to Zaunic attack."

"So you see no reason to help them?" Xerath questioned, trying to get Ahri's opinion on the matter at hand. If he could get a definite answer about her opinion on Natalie, then that would be one less thing to worry about.

"No, no, no. It's just that, I don't really know where to start with them. They just seemed so… _alien_. But when I see Nat now, she's just so weak and helpless. I want to help her if anything."

Good. That is very good news indeed.

"Oh, by the way Xerath."

"Hmm?"

"I know about the whole wisps and stuff. I think I know where we can get more."

"Really? That would indeed prove to be convenient."

"May need a slight detour on our return journey, but it should be worth it. I'll talk with you in a bit about the place."

"Alright then. When the nurses come back, then I'll meet you outside and discuss this a bit more."

"Cool, thanks."

When has she ever responded like that?

Definitely never with me before.

* * *

Ahri had gone off now, and Yamoto had made his way off to the toilet, leaving Xerath alone with Natalie.

A brief squeak of contained fear rang out.

It came was coming from her?

Why was it?

"What's wrong?" Xerath asked.

"Nothing, please. I do not need such concern."

"Then what was that squeak for?"

Silence.

In a quiet voice, she replied. "Why can't people leave me be? I have only been following orders and guilty of being a Zaunite."

That was in West Valoran.

She had just spoken in Wevalan!

"The inescapable binds of one's birthplace will always drag people back. You are being hospitalized in enemy territory by an outsider's order, I would expect to have such disdain from those who know of this. As for following orders, please do not say they mean nothing. I know of studies that have completely neutered that excuse."

Natalie was stunned. Never before had she been talked back to like this. She had never heard someone partially agree with her.

"It is an inevitability of the world to be drawn back by such small things. You just have to make do with what you are given."

"You're pretty smart, aren't you?"

"I am a champion of the League after all."

"I don't remember any crystal balls being in the League though."

That is just rubbing it in.

I know that I'm not played!

Why does everyone have to be beating this dead horse?

"My name is Xerath, and yes, I am a champion of the League. It's just that no one wields me often enough."

"So Xerath, what is the real reason why you want to help me? That stuff you talked about with that your little friend lap-dog isn't the real reason, is it?"

"What I said Yamoto was the truth, and he is not my lap-dog."

"You really expect me to take that as the truth? People can only speak in lies and half-truths. They deceive and manipulate others, that's all they can and will do."

"Then why are you working as a soldier? Because, from what I can understand, half of the time you fight in combat, do you not?"

"It's more complicated than those stupid games a Pilt kid plays. Zaunic combat is all about ambushes and deception."

"Then why were you caught off guard so easily when you first met Syndra?"

"I-"

"Because I call that being unprepared. And being unprepared means you have failed in your ambush and deception. So, I think you have failed standard Zaunic combat procedures and relegated yourself to simple games a 'Pilt' kid would play?"

Sunova!

"What I said was the truth. Viktor is a good friend of mine, and I will return one of his assets back to him."

"I'm not an asset to him. I don't deserve that right." Natalie said quietly.

"If you think like that, you don't. But it doesn't matter to me. I will return you to Viktor."

Both of them became silent as the very world became mute.

Until Yamoto came back.

* * *

Natalie was now in the care of Syndra's nurse company.

It was very clear to them that Natalie would be free to walk again by the evening, although it had been moved forward another eighteen hours since the previous estimate.

They really wanted Natalie out of Jonokyuden.

Xerath made his way to Ahri, as they had agreed several minutes ago.

In the morning dawn, he saw her in the garden that had been almost destroyed from the events two days ago.

There were still marks where Syndra had blasted the invaders apart with her truly immense power.

Ahri was currently walking through the less damaged region, her eyes set on the flowerbed at her feet.

"Ahri." He called out to her in his autonomous voice.

"Xerath! Is Nat doing well?"

"Yeah, she is. The nurses expect her to be ready within the next twelve hours. We should consider setting off back to Yamanoryu when Natalie is fine."

Xerath halted for a moment then continued.

"You said something about wisp supplies right?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah, I know a place where we can get some more." Ahri said, her face surprisingly somber.

"But- There's another reason why I want to go there."

Hmm?

What was it?

Please let it not be a place where two adults would go to 'adventure'.

"It's…"

"Say it."

"It's near the home of one of my friends from my travels before I came to the League."

"How is this relevant?"

"Well… I think she might be Syndra's mother."

That was surprising.

And potentially troubling.

If Syndra disliked her mother in any way, it could be incredibly risky to our mission.

But Ahri is more social than I am.

If her judgment is just, then I'm sure this plan will succeed.

"Do you believe that having Syndra meet with her mother to be a good idea?"

"I know her mother, Hahouya. She helped me out a lot when I was in a tight spot. She helped me so much that even know I have no way to repay her. She often talked about how she lost her ten year old daughter because of how her daughter was this incredibly powerful witch five years prior. That was seven years ago during the start of the Invasion. I think they said Syndra was around twenty-two years old right? So I think it stacks up."

"I doubt that this will work. What do you think Syndra will do should she find out that this 'Hahouya' is her mother?"

"I would say that it matches up."

That's Syndra, isn't it?

F*ck.

Xerath turned around and, exactly as predicted, found Syndra standing behind him.

Syndra's face was stern, but there was something to it.

Something that beamed with hope.

"Hahouya was indeed my mothers name. But what might you two be thinking by stopping off there?"

"Your mother gave me so much help in my time of need. There is no word for the amount of gratitude that I owe her. One of the reasons why I came back to Ionia was because I wanted to pay my respects to her. It has been years since I last saw her, and now that I have a bit of time to spare, I thought now would be the best time to visit her. I mean, after all-" Ahri's voice continued to accelerate in pace until it was broken by Syndra's words.

"My mother…"

Both Xerath and Ahri froze for a second, knowing that the next few moments could very well decide the success of their journey.

"What is she like?"

Yes!

This would work.

This would definitely work.

"She showed a half-human like me the compassion that I thought no one could ever grant me, and she has told me the ways of banter like none other. She is indeed a great woman, and you should be more than proud to be her daughter." Ahri said, her amber eyes softening at the very thought of Hahouya.

So this Hahouya was the one who taught Ahri the ways of bant?

By the fates!

She must truly be an incredible person!

"I… I guess I might want to see her again. It has been so long after all."

"I promise that you will not regret it." Ahri replied, that brilliant smile beaming on her face once again.


End file.
